Living the Life With the Shions
by Mipiko
Summary: Whether he's around or not, Kaito can say this without a doubt: he's got one whacked out family. No wonder he loves them to bits. Features the Shion siblings, family and friends. Chapter Eleven: "Home Movies". Featuring Nigaito, Akaito, Mr. and Mrs. Shion, and slight mentions of Kaiko and Kaito.
1. Shion Potency

_**A/N:**_

After making that one-shot _Busted_, I started getting the idea of making a family-orientated Fic involving the Shion family after Kaito's rise to success. Kaito will be mentioned here and there, but I'm mainly going to showcase other Shion's; mainly Akaito, Nigaito, Kizaito, and Kaiko. However, I'm totally into the idea of dedicating an entire chapter to one Shion, if a Reader wishes me to. X3 This is just gonna be loaded with crazies though, and you guys will see what my headcanons are for these guys _real_ quick. XD

* * *

"Honey, I'm home~!" a voice suddenly sang from the hall as a door slammed shut, rattling Mr. Shion out of his thoughts. It jarred him only a moment, before he regained his countenance and straightened his newspaper a bit in his hands, before continuing to read.

He felt the presence in the room then, the smug, sinister aura that seemed to follow the character everywhere. He heard the deliberately noisy footsteps as they entered, the shifting of clothing. Still, he ignored it, his eyes glued to the sports section of his newspaper.

"Hey, the newspaper's here, I see. . ." the voice hinted in an overly peppy voice, and the screech of chair limbs being dragged across the floor screamed in his ears. He heard the body fall carelessly into the chair next to him, and felt the lengthy arm that was suddenly thrown across his shoulders. Still, he tried to ignore. "The funnies in there? You know how I love reading the funnies."

He grunted. "You hate the funnies."

The laugh hit his ear almost as quick as the response did. "Well, yeah, they suck! But that's why I love them. Everyone loves being a critic, and those idiots down at the Sapporo Times give jackasses like me a perfect excuse to be one. It's like a freebee, you're not even hurting anyone's feelings."

His head jerked up to stare sternly into big, smug red eyes. "Don't say words like that."

The sparkling red eyes held his effortlessly. "Like what? Sapporo Times? Mmm, you're right, if I say it too much they might randomly appear right here on the table top. Like Beetlejuice." The pale face next to his smirked at him, thin lips curling up into a malign grin.

Mr. Shion just held his stern gaze, tilting his head down slightly to further emphasize the grave nature of his stare.

The grinning, mischievous face held his for several more moments, before finally breaking into a good-natured eye roll. "Okay, fine, sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you'd let it go. I mean, it's not like I just told you I've found an outlet for my jerky nature that doesn't make little children _cry_ or anything."

He opened his mouth to reply before he stopped a moment, considering. Then he closed his mouth, seeming to clear his head, and trained his eyes back onto the newspaper.

A few seconds passed. Then, "Hmmm. . . Ignoring me again, eh, Pops?"

He sighed lightly, before responding plainly, "No, I am not ignoring you."

The near thunderous snort made Mr. Shion literally jump a little in his chair. "Oh, come on, don't give me that crap. Admit it, Dad. I _annoy_ you." The voice didn't say these words with any sort of bitterness or anger. In fact, the words were uttered with not only a sense of humor, but with a slight giddy undertone. There was a whimsical enjoyment to the statement.

Mr. Shion's mouth formed a straight line, before he just folded up his newspaper neatly and placed it down on the table so he could rub the bridge of his nose tiredly, pushing his reading glasses up as he did so. "Well, Akaito, to be totally honest, yes. You do sometimes."

A rare, high-pitched, pleased chuckle exploded out of his teenage son's mouth, before the arm that was loosely hanging around his shoulders tightened and pulled him closer. "Awww, but you know you love me, Daddy~"

He turned his head to gaze at his son, startlingly red half-lidded eyes meeting his own pale ones, with bristled crimson hair that fell messily over his forehead. The smug, relaxed expression spread so perfectly across his face that it seemed like it was _made_ to smirk like that. His father's expression softened. "Yeah, of course I do, Akaito." He shrugged out of the hug and stood up then, picking up his coffee mug in the process. "But right now, however, I'm not talking to you." He walked across the kitchen and sat his cup in the sink, turning on the water.

Akaito turned around in his chair to blink at his father, an eyebrow raising on his forehead. "Well, why not? What did I do?"

Mr. Shion kept his back to him, picking up the sponge to clean out his cup with too much focus for such a simplistic task. "You should know what you did."

Akaito frowned. "Now come on, Dad, we're not an old married couple here. Just tell me."

He put the cup down and braced his hands on either side of the sink, his shoulders hunching over a bit. He kept his head low a few more seconds before he turned around and crossed his arms, looking less than pleased. "Akaito C. Shion. . ."

Akaito winced.

His father continued, "Yesterday evening I told you you were _not_ to go out today. Your mom and I needed your help moving in the new couch. Since you left this morning we had to ask poor Leon to help out. The man isn't as young as he used to be, he shouldn't be carrying heavy things around like that!"

Akaito scoffed. "Oh, please, Grandpa Leon's like an ox. Besides, if you really didn't want him helping, why didn't you just ask Zeito? He's got muscles like you've got back hair."

Mr. Shion stiffened, his eyebrows furrowing down angrily. "We _told_ you last night! He has practice today and he couldn't help. That's why we asked you in the first place! Don't you _ever_ listen, young man?"

Akaito looked up suddenly from his fingernails, blinking a few times in surprise. "I'm sorry, were you talking? Your voice is so soothing, it makes me zone out."

Before he could start one of his usual long-winded lectures or randomly begin assigning punishments, sweet, young Kaiko wandered into the room, unknowing of the tense atmosphere as her big blue eyes were focused on a paper held in front of her. "Hey, Daddy, what do you think of this poem? 'Just leave me be and we'll be fine, 'cause to my ears you're asinine. Your voice's like cats screeching in the night, your face so bad it gives Chuck Norris a fright.' Do you think it's too much?" She looked up then, noticing Akaito's startled demeanor and her father's tense shoulders and tight-lipped expression. She blinked a couple times. "Um, is everything okay?"

Akaito's face suddenly sprouted an eerily pleasant and sweet expression. He stood from his chair with a flourish and shook his head, bouncing on the heels of his feet. "Why, _yes_, completely innocent, virgin-eared little sister now in the room. Everything is _dandy_." He walked over to place an arm around the thirteen-year-old girl's shoulders and teasingly poking her sides to get her to laugh before hoisting her up in the air by her waist with a smile. "I mean, it's not like _Daddy_ was about to yell horribly inappropriate obscenities at me or anything, because that would be _mean_." He put her back down to poke her in the stomach, making her giggle uncontrollably again.

Mr. Shion's hard face melted at the sound, and he sighed, his arms dropping to his sides in defeat.

Akaito grinned horribly at his father, taking this as his cue to leave. "Now, what's this about a poem, Kaiko? You know, I'm not too bad at poetry. I can make rhymy words. How about I take a look at it with you? In the _other_ room, way upstairs, with the door locked and curtains closed?" He didn't wait for a response as he pushed her happy form out of the room, following after her hastily.

With a weary expression, their father watched them leave before walking over to fall gracelessly back into his chair, closing his eyes at the absurdity of his situation. He muttered quietly to himself, "Kids. . . _Kami help me. . ._"

* * *

**_A/N:_**

Since most people seem to view Akaito as Kaito's twin brother, I'm gonna do that here. And, well, I've been kind of thinking that maybe I should come up with a name for their parents and decide on their physical appearances, too. So, I have a little request of myself to anyone who reads this. Just leave me your idea in a review or PM and I'll post it up on my Profile Page as a poll and see which combination wins, first the father and then the mother. Hope that makes some sense. . . Thanks for reading!


	2. Sticky Situation

_**A/N:**_

Watching hilarious Youtube videos can have some undesirable (yet quite satisfying) bouts of inspiration.

* * *

"Come _on_, _Akaito_! You scrawny weak-kneed moron! Let me out!" a much shorter, green-haired boy yelled, banging on the door again.

Akaito just rolled his eyes, leaning with his palm flat against the door, his expression completely relaxed and a smirk set on his face. "_Right_, insult your captor, Ninny. That'll make him want to let you go." He pretended to observe his nails nonchalantly.

There was a pause on the other side of the door then, the banging ceasing, and it was enough to make even Akaito pause a moment to see what Nigaito was brewing. After a few more seconds, a dramatic voice suddenly cried from the other side of the door, "Akaito, you are right! What am I thinking? Calling my big, much stronger and infinitely more attractive brother _scrawny _and a_ moron_? Why, the insults barely hold water in any case! You were smart enough to trap me in here in the first place, _after all_. I should really stop resisting. I'm no match for the great _Akaito Crypton Shion_. Rebellion is pointless! Oh, woe is me! To be so weak and dim!" There was a sudden melodramatic burst of cries and rapping on the door.

Akaito could just barely keep in his laughter at this display, and sighed, thoroughly entertained, before stating simply, "Don't quit your day job, kid."

There was a very distinctive huff on the other side then, the crying and banging stopping instantly. "I don't have a job," he grumbled bitterly on the other side.

"Well then get one and whatever you do, don't _ever_ quit!" Akaito snickered, running a hand through his hair. "Hollywood'll chew you up then explosively vomit you back out with acting that exaggerated. Although. . ." Akaito ran his thumb over across one of his eyebrows sleekly then smirked devilishly at the door, "perhaps some part's not _so_ exaggerated." He chuckled.

A snort sounded. "Oh, get _over_ yourself, Butthead."

"Hey, the ladies _love_ a bad boy, little brother. You should really work on that jealousy problem you have there."

"Akaito, ever heard of a little thing called '_humility_'? Dad goes on about it all the time? Ring any bells?"

Akaito just laughed. "Oh, come on. There's no need for modesty when you look _this_ good. That stuff's more for the masses."

"Akaito, need I remind you of a certain Texas-sized, gargantuan mole located right on your—"

**"Akaito! Nigaito!"** a sudden booming voice echoed throughout the house, coming from upstairs, signaling Armageddon.

Akaito worked fast. "What's that you say, Nii? Go on without you? Nii-chan, I couldn't, no—Oh, you want me to? You'll take all the blame? Oh, Nigaito, you truly are the better man of the two of us." He wiped some fake tears from his eyes with a sniffle. Just before he broke into a sprint to the back of the house, already in position to do so, Akaito announced smugly, "And _that_, Ninny, is how you act!" And just like that, he was gone.

"_Akaito_!" Nigaito's voice shouted, banging on the door more in fury, before a loud bang signaled he'd thrown his entire body at the door this time.

The door opened then almost startlingly quick and Nigaito fell out, and his face came in instant contact with the floor.

He didn't dare get up, though, as he could already feel that looming presence over himself, the tension so thick in the room that he was practically choking on it, regardless of the fact his nose was smashed up against the hardwood floor.

The presence tapped it's foot, causing small tremors to run through the floor and vibrate against his face. He shivered.

"Up. _Now_."

Nigaito obeyed immediately, near-scrambling off the floor and standing at attention, eyes cemented to the floor. There was a growl, and Nigaito steeled himself, clenching his eyes and fists shut.

"Nigaito Fūga Crypton Shion, _look me in the eye when I am talking to you_."

It took effort, but he managed to wretch his eyes open and bring them to connect with hers. Her dark eyes were narrowed dangerously, flames blazing, and her arms stiff at her sides, legs spread. He swallowed unconsciously. _Her war stance_. He dared to ask, "Uh. . . H-Hey, Mom. Everything all right?" He cringed, his brain desperately trying to recall if he'd done anything bad recently.

She put an end to his misery when she deafly held up a pair of honey soaked boxer shorts, positively dripping with the apparently sickly and sticky substance. Nigaito gawked. She stated simply, eyes narrowing further, "_Someone_ spilled honey in your father and I's vanity. He didn't know so apparently he's been walking around in honey drawers all day, and only just realized the reason his pants felt weird when a swarm of bees chased him off campus. Have any idea who could have done this?"

Nigaito just stared, dumbfounded, when the sound of the backdoor slamming shut startled him and he jumped. His mother was quick, though. Gripping the boxers in a fist, she seethed, "Oh no you don't!" before ripping through the house to practically smash through the back screen door and run through the yard. Her feet ate up the ground as she rounded the corner and caught Akaito with one leg already over the fence. All it took was one fierce tug to throw him off and cause him to fall back onto the lawn with a terrified yell.

Stepping forward to stand over him, she glared down at his face, his shaggy crimson locks mingling with the grass and his red eyes almost innocent in their wideness as they stared up at her. She scowled. He stared.

Impatience proved dominant. "_Well_?" she prompted, holding the underpants over his face and shaking them. "Any last words,_ Pepper Ann_? Perhaps some begging for your life to be spared for all my good bras now being ant bait?"

That managed to get a response out of his shocked form, and he sputtered out, face contorting, "Ewwwwwww! Mom bras—did you _really_ have to put that image in my head—"

"Ohhh, I'm sorry, it would seem you've run out of time, and that was _not_ the correct answer. I'd tell you to play again soon, but you don't even have that much time." She grabbed him by the collar of his black-plaid shirt and proceeded to drag him across the yard, hell bent on throwing him in the lake.

Akaito was having none of that, though, and he clawed at the ground, freaking out, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Mom, stop! Seriously, it was an accident! I didn't—"

"_Why_," she ground out through clenched teeth, trying with all her might to pull him despite his resistance, "were you even," she pulled him a few more inches, "in our bedroom," she grabbed him under his arms and continued to pull, making significant progress now, "_in the first place_?"

Akaito made an odd sort of screeching sound and attempted to stand up, only for his lanky legs to stumble and make him fall harshly on his butt and get dragged in even longer, more determined strides by his deadly mother. "I-I was just in there, I don't know!"

"You're lying!"

"Do my pants _look_ like they're on fire?"

"Well if they are, they certainly won't be in a minute."

Understanding what she meant to do with him now, he desperately tried to twist against her grasp, kicking his legs fervently. "No, no, no, no, no, no! Not the lake! This is my favorite shirt!"

"Then start talking, wise guy!" She threw him down, stepping over to stand in front of him and make sure he couldn't get away, though she really didn't need to. Her entire body radiated fury, and the last thing on Akaito's mind right now was doing anything to anger her further.

Taking a couple seconds to regain his breath, he launched swiftly into his explanation, "I was mixing peanut butter with honey and pickled peppers for a snack yesterday and went into your room to try to find a CD I'd dropped in there earlier—I guess I must have left the honey on the vanity and it got knocked over somehow. I didn't know! I'm sorry!"

His mother seethed, "Why was your CD in our room?"

"I dropped it—"

She cut him off with a prompt snort. "_Yes_, Captain Obvious, I heard that. Let me rephrase: how many times do we have to tell you to stay out of our room before you'll actually _listen_? Why does everything go over your head?"

Akaito sputtered, at a loss for words for a moment before he managed out, stuttering, "It's not you, it's Dad. Every time he tells me not to, it just—I—He's kinda hard to take serious—"

"Your father is a perfectly capable man!" She snapped, leaning down into his bug-eyed face, flaring eyes connecting with fearful ones, "Just because he loves you doesn't mean he's not fully capable of whipping your ass!"

This time, Akaito managed to conger the nerve to snort, eyes flying to the sky. "You've always said that yet he's never done anything. Empty threats get pretty _old_ after a while, don't ya think, Mom? That hasn't worked on me since I was twelve." He pulled his knees towards himself in his position on the ground and smiled sweetly.

"Oh really now?" She said, eyebrows tilting upward as she straightened herself and crossed her arms. A little too calm for comfort. "Well then how about when he gets home we just have him make up for lost time? _Say_, eighteen years' worth?"

Akaito looked at her through lowered lids, ever confident even in the face of death. "He would never do that. No matter how many times you bat your eyelashes, Mom."

She didn't falter. "Ohhh, I don't think he'll need any convincing. Not with the eight bee stings he has and all the underwear that'll no doubt take us all day to scrub."

Akaito burst into a grin at hearing that, remembering what he'd heard before he'd tried to flee. "_Yeah_, he got chased off campus by a bunch of bees." He burst into laughter, imaging his mild-mannered, ever-relaxed father making a beeline (pun intended) for safety, arms flailing and shoes be damned while all the little kids screamed. It was almost too much for him to handle. He choked out, falling onto his back on the lawn, "What are the _odds_?"

She shrugged, irritation darkening her face with how he was completely missing the point. "He broke a mirror. Look, _Aka-chan_," she was pleased with how that brought a grimace to his face, "I'm done with your complete disregard for rules. Your dad may not be able to strike fear into your heart, but I," she struck quick and grabbed him by the collar of his plaid shirt and pulled him nose to nose with her, causing his eyes to instantly bolt open wide in the face of her ire, "will not hesitate to take a blow torch to _all of your books_."

His eyes instantly went startlingly dark, just what she expected, and he growled, "_You wouldn't. . ._"

She quirked a brow, challenging. _"Try me."_

His face blanched, as it always did, before he muttered quietly, unused to being bested, "Fine. . ."

Just like that, his mother let go of him, leaving him to fall gracelessly back onto the lawn, before dusting her hands off and turning back towards the house. "Wise boy. Clean yourself up before you come inside. You're covered in dirt." She turned her head around sharply then, eyes narrowed. "And I mean it. If I see even one speck of dirt on my clean floors, 'The Catcher in the Rye' goes. . ." she made an exploding sound with her lips and gestured her arms wide, before cackling evilly and wandering back to the house, disappearing inside.

Akaito watched her go expressionlessly, propped up on his elbows, before he fell back into the grass with a large sigh, shutting his eyes to the afternoon sun. "Damn it."

"Well, _that_ was better than pay-per-view."

Akaito's head shot up to see Nigaito leaning against the back of the house, his arms crossed and lips smirked. Akaito gaped at him. "How long have you been there?"

Nigaito chuckled. "Only long enough to see Mom make a complete idiot out of you. Not that you can't do that very well yourself, mind you, and _do_ on a regular basis, but still." He blew some hair out of his face casually, as if he hadn't just witnessed the infamous Akaito Shion ego get torn to shreds in the matter of minutes.

Akaito looked at him incredulously. "You sadistic little skuzzball."

Nigaito laughed silently, chest bouncing, before he smiled thinly, eyes half-mast with sardonic mirth. "Forgive the fascination. This isn't exactly an everyday event." He grinned.

"_Okay_, what did I miss this time?" Taito groaned suddenly from the doorway, a basket of his clothes soiled in red 'dye' in hand. To think he'd just come out here for some fresh air and for some time for himself, instead ended up seeing a bedraggled Akaito sprawled across the lawn and a grinning Nigaito. Both of which things that were not normal. If you could call anything normal in this household, anyway.

"Akaito got yelled at!" a pair of soft chiming voices came in answer.

Akaito's head shot to the right, seeing the two innocent faces peeking through a gap in the fence. He shot upright, scandalized. "_Kaiko and Daito_, et tu?"

Kaiko shied her face down, abashed. "I couldn't help but overhear." Daito nodded in agreement.

"You always miss the best stuff, Taito. I feel sorry for you," Nigaito commented, eyeing the elder.

Taito pursed his lips. "Whatever. All the better for my sanity." _Or what's left of it. . ._

Akaito looked around at them all with eye-twitching mortification, before he stunted suddenly, face blank. After a moment or two of uncertain atmosphere, he burst into raucous, ear-splitting laughter and fell back once more, rocking back and forth in hysterics.

They all observed this silently for a minute, before Taito said bluntly, "He's lost his mind."

"It was only a matter of time," Nigaito muttered listlessly.

"In this family, I believe it." Taito put the basket down and pulled out a small dagger. "Now seems like it's the best time to—"

"Oh, you are all _so_ getting locked in the closet!" Akaito cackled, startling them. Sitting upright then, he stood up and began in his modest attempt to clean himself off, grin still set. "And you know what the best part is? Even if I did just basically get my life threatened, she completely neglected to give me any actual punishment. I just got off scott-free. Even when it seems like I lose, I still win." He smirked with his devil-may-care attitude and flitted his hand at them. "She's all talk and appearance. Couldn't even call me out on the fact that I put honey in Dad's underwear on _purpose_." He walked purposely over towards the house.

Nigaito's jaw dropped at hearing all this, eyebrows shooting up in astonishment. "You _lied_?"

Akaito stopped beside him and smirked, ruffling his hair, much to his chagrin. "_Learn_, little brother. I don't approve of dishonesty normally, but when a life is at stake, _lie like the wind_. Always remember that."

Akaito brushed past Taito into the house then, leaving Nigaito watching after him in admiration and Taito to gawk. Kaiko and Daito had long been called back by their friends in the other yard, though—good thing, they really didn't need to hear any of that.

"I can't even. . ." Taito breathed. After a few seconds, he threw his arms up, sending his dagger away flying into the air, a loud and painful squeak into the distance, and announced, "I'm done!" Spinning on his heel then and kicking down his basket, he marched back inside and slammed the door.

Nigaito just stared out across the yard for a moment, dazed, before he realized Akaito had just said they were all going into the closet again. And knowing him and what had just happened, he wasn't joking. Nigaito slapped his forehead. "Ah, crap."

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of him when Akaito came racing out the backdoor again. Face in the dirt, he looked up to see Akaito jump back up quick and go high-tailing across the yard as fast as his freakishly long legs could take him. Nigaito didn't get a chance to wonder why, only just managing to push himself up off the ground when their dad came shredding across the yard after him, his hair mangled and big red dots all over his forearms. Nigaito stared in shock as several yards out, their dad caught up with Akaito and began dragging him back to the house, yelling obscenities that he couldn't hear.

"Justice serves," Nigaito was startled to hear Taito say from behind him, and looked over to see him grinning sadistically in the doorway. Nigaito did a double take. "Did you snitch?"

Taito shook his head. "Nah, I don't need honey in my underwear drawer, thanks. Dad just came home, saw Akaito, and, well. . ." He laughed. "It was like World War III happened in three seconds flat when they looked at each other."

Nigaito stared at him a second before sighing harshly and face planting back into the grass. "Damn, that was almost epic."

"Let this be a lesson to you," Taito said with a smirk, "_Karma_ always has the last laugh."

Nigaito grumbled under his breath, "Note to self: kill this Karma person. She has no sense of humor."

* * *

_**A/N:**_

Because ChocoholicBrunette14 asked for Taito to make an appearance, and I couldn't help myself. XD


	3. Alphabetical Torture

_**A/N:**_

Because experience came a knockin' and I wanted to use Nigaito for this.

* * *

_An__ ABC poem, AKA, possibly the dumbest of all forms of poetry_

_By Nigaito Shion_

_For Dr. Megurine, who is too cruel to be working with children_

A poem is what I am writing.

But I don't want to be doing this.

'Cause poetry really isn't my thing,

Due to the fact I am a boy.

Except, of course, you don't care.

Filthy women, they never care.

Gah, is this supposed to rhyme?

Ha, oh well.

I really don't care, this is dumb.

JUST KIDDING, I love this!

Kill me.

Listening, that's what you're supposed to do.

Making me do stupid things like this won't make me sane.

Not that you care, you just want to get paid.

Officially, this is the stupidest thing I've ever done.

Please don't ever make me do this again.

Quiet, quiet, that's all I want, just quiet.

Really, that's all I want. To be left alone.

Stupid pen keeps trying to run out of ink.

Truthfully, therapy so far isn't so bad.

Upstairs, in my room—even there it's not quiet.

Viewing out your window is quiet, though.

Which is nice, at least. That last line sounded stupid. 'Viewing,' ugh.

X, X, what am I supposed to do with X? Xylophones?

You really are sadistic, you know?

Zeito stinks.

* * *

_A NEW and IMPROVED ABC poem_

_By Nigaito Shion_

_For Dr. Megurine, who is such a DELIGHT_

Apparently my last poem wasn't what you had in mind

Being the good boy I am, I will try to be kind

Careful of your instructions, I'll write some more

Describing my feelings and pretending I'm not bored

Enough so, that you will be forever happy

For your feelings are what are important, I'll be sappy

Grit my teeth and forge on through

Hiding my distaste, I'll be honest and true

I will write a poem about "feelings"

Just like you instructed along with other things

Kind, glorious woman, the hearts you must be stealing

Lovely, just lovely, REALLY, you've left me reeling

Might as well stop fighting and do what you want

No point in arguing, or trying to daunt

Of course you won, you're the woman here, right?

People like you are useless to fight

Quitting while I'm ahead is what is best

Right? So I'll stop being dumb and heed your request

Sitting down, I'll write like you so want me to

To make myself feel BETTER, and stop being so BLUE

Useful tools like poems help for things like that

Vital, like poetry helps pain, water soothes cats

Writing will help make me stop being a NUT

X is still a stupid, pointless letter, so shut

YARGH, it appears I've run out of letters.

Whoopsy-daisy.

Zeito still stinks. Screw rhyming.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

Ahh, Nigaito. Gotta feel a little sorry for Luka since she's the one who has to deal with him. XD


	4. Little Miss Perfect: Part One

_**A/N:**_

I wish I could look through my yearbook without feeling so much regret. OTL However, there was this one person who got under my skin (in the bad sense), and for the longest time, I felt like I absolutely _HATED_ him, and I'm sure he hated me, too. Now I feel pretty bad about it, but neh, it makes for good material, I guess. XD

* * *

Kaiko Shion walked anxiously beside her mother through the halls of her new school, her bangs pushed aside messily and kept in place with little blue ice pop clips. Her mother offered to put them up for her, but as usual Kaiko insisted she do it herself. As a result they were crooked and a bit unkempt, but she was proud of them nonetheless.

Her wide aquamarine eyes took in the expanse of the hall eagerly, memorizing every detail she'd forgotten over the summer. Kaiko was a very bright student and enjoyed almost every aspect of school. She loved the pencils, paper, fresh books, the lingering smell of undiscovered knowledge, and especially her friends. Her pace picked up unconsciously and passed a few steps in front of her mother, missing the amused eyebrow quirk.

Her Mary Janes clacked quietly against the floor, and she beamed at everyone that passed, lighting up their faces with a smile they couldn't help but return. Kaiko was like the sun at her school, always with a kind smile and joy-stringed words to share. With perfect grades and a lovely personality, there was very little wrong with Kaiko Fuuga Shion.

But very little and nothing weren't exactly the same thing, were they?

Kaiko walked into her almost empty classroom and her eyes lit up instantly, excited beyond measure to see her father sorting through some things in his suitcase on the desk.

"Daddy!" she squealed, immediately racing across the room to throw herself at him.

Her father stumbled only slightly at the hug, before he chuckled warmly and picked her full off the ground to twirl her around.

"Daddy," she giggled, pulling away slightly in his arms to look him in the eye, "what are you doing here?"

He stopped spinning and adjusted his grip on her, smiling teasingly. "Why, I'm your teacher of course—"

This little bit of information immediately brought forth a new string of squeals, and he laughed. "Oh my gosh, Dad," Kaiko piped up again, hugging him around his neck, "I'd completely forgotten you taught here. This is going to be wonderful!"

He grinned, hugging her tighter and rocking her a little in his arms. It seemed like only yesterday that was all she was—a little pink bundle in his arms, looking up at him with the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. He sighed. "Yes. Yes, it will be."

Suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat snapped him back to reality. He turned around, still supporting Kaiko in his arms.

His eyes connected with his wife's mischievous ones across the room, where she stood leaning her hip against the doorway. One of his eyebrows popped up without his meaning it to, before he looked back to Kaiko and forced a quick smile. "Hey, Cookie, go put your things away, okay? Class doesn't start for another half hour."

Kaiko blinked at him, looking a tad confused. She looked over at her mother, then back at him, and understanding seemed to light in her eyes. She nodded dutifully and hopped down to wander over to a desk directly up front, taking off her satchel to start sorting through what she'd be keeping here.

Her father swiveled on his foot to face his wife in an instant, eyebrow cocked once more, and smirked. She looked away, almost coy in the blue jeans and pink v-neck she'd slung on at the ungodly hour. But even with her lazy ponytail and speedily applied blush, she looked gorgeous.

He sauntered over to her and leaned against the other side of the door, causing a button of his blazer to come undone. "Well, hello there, ma'am. I can't help but notice you're not wearing a ring. . ." His smirk turned to a flirty smile. "Mind if I correct that?"

She laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, leaning away from him a little with lowered lashes. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Shion, but I just left my ring in my jewelry box. . . You see, it's very special to me, and it'd kill me to lose it. . ."

He frowned at that, leaning in closer despite her reluctance. "So a married woman, eh?" He smirked. "I do love a challenge."

She looked down and away, leaning as far away as the wall would allow. "Mr. Shion, _please_. I do have children, you know. . ."

He grinned. "Well it's a good thing I'm a teacher then. Children are my specialty." He took a small step closer to her, taking her hand into his. "Don't you stand there with your pretty eyes pretending I haven't seen you checking me out in the hallways before. I _know_ you're interested, _Miss_."

"Hmmm. . ." She hummed, flicking her hesitant eyes back to his. "I don't know. . . My husband's kind of the jealous sort, it would be very risky. . . and the kids love him so much, I'd hate to put them through any heartache."

He came forward suddenly and enveloped her in his arms, pulling her tight to him. He whispered in her ear, fingers curling against the fabric of her shirt, "I don't think they'll mind. . ."

She sighed breathlessly against him, still as prone to swooning as she was when they were children. With hands wrapping themselves around his shoulders, she muttered ruefully, "We really have to stop being so good at this, or else we'll end up with another kid. . ."

Her husband's chuckle was deep and rough, sending trembles down her spine, and he pulled back to grin in her face charmingly. "Hey, it'll be an adventure!"

She quirked half her mouth up, raising an eyebrow. "You always say that. But I think I'm all _adventured out_, if you know what I mean. . ."

He pouted as a joke, and she just rolled her eyes before pressing a kiss to his silly mouth.

Just as he was returning the kiss, a screech ripped them apart. Eyes darting, their eyes landed on a small brown haired boy with eyes to match sticking his tongue out in disgust.

Stricken, Kaiko's father said dumbly, "You're early."

The boy snorted and pushed past the adults still wrapped around each other, marching into the classroom. "Yeah, no duh." He stopped suddenly then, before turning around with an eyebrow raised in conceit. "You _would_ be named Shion."

He blinked. He wasn't sure, but he felt as if he'd just been insulted. "Uh, how did you—"

"Your desk has a nameplate, Purple." He pointed to the small plate sitting atop his desk, before crossing his arms. "If you're this thick-headed now about something as obvious as this, I'm worried about the fate of our class."

He stared gobsmacked, when suddenly his wife launched out of his arms and stood to tower over the thirteen-year-old. "Now you watch that mouth—"

"Darling," He stopped her quick with a warm hand on her shoulder, instantly calming her temper.

That is until the boy said, "_Darling_?" He laughed incredulously, the sound quick and piercing. "What kind of a name is that? What's your name then?" He snapped his eyes to the teacher. "Honey? Sweetie? What disaster's going on there?"

His wife reached blindly to grip onto her husband's hand and squeezed it for dear life, scowling almost murderously. He gripped it back and responded to him calmly, "Fair enough, everyone has an opinion—what's your name?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't answer me."

He stared him down for a few seconds, before relenting, "Ōkuno Chichioya Shion."

The boy sniffed, sticking his nose up. "I should have figured. Nice to meet you, Poindexter, I'm Meito."

Despite himself, he found himself smiling ever so slightly. "Nice to meet you, Meito. Go on and have a seat."

"I was going to." He turned to march over to the desks, when his eyes came crashing down on Kaiko sorting through her bag. He froze. "Kaiko. . . you're here early."

Kaiko brought her eyes up to meet his and blinked. Her face remained impassive as she looked at him, before she looked back down into her bag, pulling out a ruler and holding it delicately in her hands. "Yep."

He paused only a moment more before sniffing, storming over to his desk and sitting as far away from her as possible. He sat down loudly, screeching his chair across the floor and emphasizing it's scream. Kaiko didn't even flinch. He scowled.

Ōkuno looked back to his wife and they shared a look, much calmer now than she was before.

"I should go," she said regretfully, pecking him on the cheek. "Good luck. Something tells me you're going to have your work cut out for you."

He offered a small smile brimmed with irony, and squeezed her hand one last time. He muttered quietly, "I do love a challenge."

She chuckled and let go of his hand, walking out of the classroom. "See you at home later, Doof. I've still got to take the boys to school."

He snorted out a laugh. "And you said I have _my_ work cut out for me!"

She smirked at him one last time before she was out of sight.

* * *

"All right, class," Ōkuno announced, clapping his hands together with a wide grin, "first off I'd like to welcome you all to your first year. My name is Mr. Shion, but you can also call me Mr. Ōkuno if you want. Whatever you find suitable." He turned and wrote both names on the board.

Someone called then while his back was turned, "How about Mr. Stupid?"

There were some giggles and snickers, but he just chuckled and turned around with his hands on his hips. "Very funny. But if you want to get really creative, why don't you go ahead and call me Mr. Doofus?"

Everyone burst into laughter at hearing that and Ōkuno grinned, shaking his head at them. "I've heard all the names, kids. Make fun all you want. But today is the first day of class, so let's try to make a good impression, huh?" He beamed. "The next few weeks will be really easy. We're just reviewing what you learned last year, so no worries. We're in this as a team, and I'm here to make sure everyone excels." He walked over to his desk to pull out his planner and place it flat on his desk. Flipping a few pages, he spoke, "Today we'll be starting out on basic addition. Okay, so let's say Nigaito has three sticks of gum. . ."

"Pssst. . ." someone hissed from the back of the room.

Kaiko didn't hear them, too wrapped up in watching her father teach.

"Psssssst. . .Piggy. . ."

Kaiko's eyelids fell at hearing the name, but otherwise she ignored it.

The voice seemed to know she'd heard, though. "Piggy, your hair's crooked again. You look like an idiot."

Kaiko ignored him, picking out a pen to start taking notes.

The voice was relentless. "Ah, a pen, Piggy Pig? Really? A bit overconfident if you ask me."

Kaiko bit her lip hard before her hand was suddenly in the air. The voice immediately went silent.

"Yes, Kaiko?" Her father asked fondly, a piece of chalk in hand.

Kaiko put her arm down and twirled her pen in her hand, asking, "Would it be okay if I asked something kind of off topic?"

Ōkuno raised an eyebrow. "I guess. . . What is it?"

Grabbing down one of her bangs to run her fingers through it, she averted her eyes as she asked, "Well, I was just wondering, since you're our new teacher and all, what the punishment would be for trouble makers?"

Ōkuno seemed surprised at the question, and his eyes flicked somewhere else for a moment before he smiled slightly and answered, "Well, I'd say a few minutes out in the hallway would be in order. If it's really bad, though, I'd have to call their parents." He waved his hand then, turning back to the board to write out some equations. "But I'm sure it won't ever have to come to _that_."

Kaiko looked down at her desk, mumbling, "I wouldn't be so sure. . ."

Nonetheless, the voice was quiet for the rest of the lesson, something Kaiko was truly grateful for.

* * *

"Iroha!" Kaiko yelled, racing through the halls to catch up with her best friend, too-big bow flying behind her in a flickering wave of blue.

The short girl stopped and smiled her gentle smile at her friend as she caught up. "Hey," she grinned, "our new teacher is great."

Kaiko beamed proudly. "I know."

"Oh, here." Iroha licked her thumb and reached up to tighten Kaiko's hair that were falling loose from the clips.

Kaiko huffed a little, still catching her breath. "Thanks, Kit-Kat." She reached up to touch her hair with a tentative hand. "I'm always having problems with it."

Iroha shrugged. "You'll get it in time. Just keep trying." She taped on her own hair clips, and waggled her brows for emphasis.

Kaiko grinned, beginning to walk alongside her friend as they made their way down the hall. "I will! Oh, Iroha, today has been so wonderful so far. I can't believe my dad's going to be our teacher this year."

"Maybe next year too," Iroha commented offhandedly.

Kaiko snapped her blue eyes over to her, her mouth forming a small circle "What?"

Iroha shrugged, sinking her hands into her skirt's pockets. "Well, I've heard of teachers moving up with their students in the grades sometimes if they really like them or something. I kinda doubt your dad will be able to give up teaching you for only a year." She laughed a little under her breath.

Kaiko stopped, her blue eyes wide with a blissful haze. "Oh, Kit-Kat. . . If that were true!" She spun around, tugging her bangs down without thinking and gripping them tight. "I'll never be unhappy again!" She squealed. "Not even Meito could ruin my day!"

"I'll have to try harder then!" the voice from before suddenly yelled, skidding past them on a skateboard.

Kaiko gaped at Meito, letting go of her now ruined and drooping hair clips to reach a hand out, even though he was far down the hall now. "Meito! What are you doing? You can't ride that in here! You'll hurt someone!"

"HA! Watch me, Piggy!" He stuck his tongue out at her, swiveling around the corner.

"Ugh," Kaiko sighed, her shoulders falling.

Iroha frowned. With her shoulders, hair clips, and giant blue bow all drooping like that, she looked truly pitiful, like a small blue drop of sunshine melted into the dirt of the floor. She walked calmly over and began fixing her hair clips diligently, saying nicely, "Hey, forget him. He's stupid. He can't ruin your day remember?"

Kaiko looked up at her a moment, before grinning again. The sharp switch of emotions never failed to surprise Iroha, and she took a step back. "You're right! My dad's our teacher for the entire year, and might be for next year too, and maybe even the next year, and the next, and—"

Iroha laughed and put a hand over her mouth, shushing her. "Don't get overexcited, Cookie. We don't even know if I'm right."

Kaiko stared at her for a second, before scoffing and taking hold of her arm to pull it away from her grinning lips. "I know you're right. And even if you're not, I'll make sure of it." She beamed.

Iroha just shook her head. "Whatever you say, Kaiko."

"Speaking of which, where's your h—" There was a sudden yell, effectively cutting her off. "Young man! What are you doing? You can't ride that in here! Do you _want_ detention?"

Both Kaiko and Iroha froze at hearing this, before they slowly rotated their heads to share a broad, knowing smirk.

* * *

"Welcome back, class." Ōkuno smiled as his class came filing back into the room. "I trust you enjoyed your break." He walked over to the board, leaning his back against it as he crossed his arms. The relaxed pose caught some hopeful glances. "Now then, our next subject will be _Japanese_."

That earned him some groans from all except one. Ōkuno hid his smile, standing up straight to walk over to the front of them all. "Now, come on, guys. We're reviewing remember? This isn't anything you don't already know." He leaned with a hand on Kaiko's desk to talk to them all more personally. "But we're not doing any of that today. I need to grade your Math quizzes, so while I'm doing that, I'm giving one simple assignment. You've got the entire hour to do it, so just take your time and enjoy it." Sharing a quick look with Kaiko, he smiled secretively and said, "I'd like you all to write a poem."

Everyone groaned again at hearing this and Ōkuno laughed. "Kids, come on, what's wrong with that?"

"Poems are icky," one black-haired boy said, sinking down in his seat.

"Yeah, they're all romancy and stuff. . ." a tall blonde said from the back, glancing around at everyone in embarrassment.

"No!" Kaiko suddenly turned sharply in her seat, eyes incredulous and firm. "Poems aren't icky or romancy!"

Her father took a step back to address them all, amused. "Kaiko's right, kids, poems are astoundingly flexible. They don't have to be about romance. They can be about anything in the world. They could be about a pet, or some candy you really like, or even just about a finger."

"A finger?" a short, baseball capped redhead asked, pushing away from her desk in confusion. "How do you finger that one out?"

Ōkuno shrugged, turning away from everyone as they sniggered, tossing over his shoulder, "Oh, I don't know—Finger, finger, on my hand, you can do so much, you really can. From picking up things to wearing a band, finger, finger, you're truly grand."

Some hushed whispers started at that, and Ōkuno smirked to himself, satisfied to know years of being married to a Master Poetess had more than paid off. But he lost the smirk when he realized all he'd really accomplished was writing a first year worthy poem that awed a bunch of thirteen-year-olds. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he turned back around and raised an eyebrow. "Still think it can't be done?"

"How'd you do that?" a dark brown haired girl asked with her mouth slightly open in awe. He'd thought he'd heard some of the kids calling her Concrete Kid earlier—he'd have to ask about that later.

He smiled. "It's easy. All you have to do is make a few lines that rhyme. Rhyming's as simple as one, two, _three_, it's as easy as can _be_, you _see_?"

Some murmurs started at that. A green-haired girl with spidery braids poking out of her head raised her hand, asking curiously, "Would it be terribly, terribly wrong if we wrote a song instead?"

Ōkuno looked at her kindly. "I don't see why you couldn't. A song is a form of a poem anyway."

Kaiko giggled, singing as she swayed in her seat, "Yankee-doodle went to town, riding on a pony—"

Everyone joined in with her, "Stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni!" Everyone burst into laughter.

Ōkuno grinned, clapping his hands once. "Exactly that! So go on—write a poem or song, all you need to do is make sure it rhymes. You won't be working on anything more advanced than that for a long time. You can talk amongst yourselves, just don't get too loud, okay? And make sure you're finished within the hour. Have fun!" He wandered over to his desk then and plopped down, pulling out the papers from earlier.

The room instantly exploded in hushed whispers and chatter, everyone pulling out paper and pencils.

Kaiko didn't even look up—her face was hidden beneath her bangs as she scribbled furiously on her paper, her tongue stuck out in concentration.

A pair of brown eyes watched her the entire time.

* * *

Ōkuno stared down at the paper, his mouth slightly open. "Huh. . . that's surprising." Doing the math once more in his head to make sure, he smacked his lips a little to himself in disappointment and shook his head, marking it with an F. "I wouldn't have thought."

"Daddy," a soft voice suddenly piped up and Ōkuno's eyes snapped up to his little girl's, who was smiling almost shy. But that couldn't be, his little girl was much too confident for that. Smiling reminiscently at how familiar this almost was, he said, "Yes, Cookie?"

Her fingers tapped against the paper in her hand and Ōkuno realized she'd finished her poem. She laid it down in front of him and smiled widely, her teeth showing. "All done." She looked at him eagerly, eyes slipping back down to the paper.

Ōkuno smiled at her with exaggerated enthusiasm, picking up the poem with a small flourish. "I can see that. Well, I'll just have to grade it right now." Turning his eyes to the poem, he read it with a smile. As he finished it, though, his once genuine smile was more forced now. Looking back up into her big, anxious eyes, he felt his heart chip. Glancing back down to the paper, he pursed his lips as he wagged his head back and forth a little in thought, playing mental ping pong with himself. Finally, he came to a conclusion and picked up his big green pen, marking it with a solid A. He smiled at Kaiko, handing it back to her. "Very nice, Kaiko. It certainly. . . rhymes."

Kaiko seemed breathless as she gazed down at the A on her paper, bunching up the page a little in her hands. "Oh. . . Oh, thank you, Daddy!" She almost made a move to hug him but then realized there was a big desk blocking her from getting anywhere close to him. Frowning for only a moment, she relented to simply look at him happily. "Um, I mean, thanks, Mr. Shion." She giggled, dazed with giddiness.

Ōkuno's smile turned huge and genuine. He'd lost count of how many times he'd fallen in love with that smile. "Of course, Kaiko." Leaning over the desk on his arms, his eyes turned kind. "Now run along back to your seat, class won't be over for another half hour."

"Okay—" She seemed ready to turn around and do just that, when suddenly someone reached right around her and slammed something down on Ōkuno's desk.

Kaiko jumped when Meito leaned his arms over onto the desk, standing much too close to her for her liking. "Hey, Purple, here's that poem you wanted."

Ōkuno looked down at it, reading to himself, "I ate a cat, it tasted like a rat, but it was a brat—"

Meito sniffed loudly, eyes going full circle. "Hey, you said all it had to do was rhyme. I figured it was free game." He scowled then. "And I hate poems."

Kaiko seemed thoroughly offended, and she huffed out a quiet breath before turning sharply on her heel and going back to her desk.

His eyes followed her, before snapping back to Ōkuno when he replied, "Meito, this is rather inappropriate."

Meito crossed his eyes in a crude expression, before leaning further over the desk in an attempt of intimidation. He was surprisingly tall for a thirteen-year-old. "Who says? We eat dog all the time, why not cat? What's so wrong with that? And who's to say they don't taste like rat? Have you ever tried one?" His eyes flashed, and for a moment, this seemed all too familiar to Ōkuno. Meito leaned in closer, glaring daggers. "_Huh, _Spazz Boy? Or should I say, Mr. Doofus, _sir_?"

Ōkuno stared at him in confusion, suddenly feeling nine-years-old and not quite knowing why. "Uh—" snapping out of it, he leaned over to meet the kid's eyes directly, asking with a level tone, "since when do we eat dogs, Meito?"

Meito snorted, eyes flying. "Hot _dogs_—duh!"

Ōkuno couldn't control the smile. "Hot dogs aren't actually made of dogs, Meito."

Meito stared at him, stricken. "Then why do they call them that?"

Ōkuno shrugged, still smiling. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Meito sniffed, standing up straight. "_Okay. . ._ then what are they made of?"

Ōkuno kept his smile for a few more seconds before it suddenly vanished, his brows creasing. "Um. . ." He blinked a couple times before a laugh suddenly burst from him and he confessed, "I don't really know."

This earned him a glare, the young boy's hands laying themselves flat on his desk. "Then how do you know they're not made of dog?"

Ōkuno sighed, realizing real fast there was no real way of winning this argument. "Okay, fair enough. I'll tell you what—I'll give you an A on your poem, if you explain to me how you could have failed your Math quiz." He kept his tone quiet so no one else heard, very wary of making him uncomfortable.

This worry was shattered when Meito suddenly yelled, "I didn't fail anything! Math is nothing!"

Eyes struck wide, Ōkuno raised himself slightly from his desk, palms flat and face startled. "Meito, keep your voice down!"

"Why should I?" he yelled over his shoulder, marching over to the door. "How about I just go the Principal's office right now? That's the only place I end up anyhow!"

"_Meito Sakine_," Ōkuno said firmly, standing up from his seat.

Meito turned sharp enough to leave a scratch in the floor, his eyes flashing furiously. "My name is Meito. Meito, Meito, _Meito_, do you get it?"

Ōkuno sighed, walking over to grab the chair from his desk and carry it to the front of the room. "Yes, Meito, I do, and you're in time out as of right now. I'm not sending you to the Principal's office. Now sit down." The chair now placed beside his desk, he pointed to it firmly.

Meito looked from the chair to the teacher with incredulous eyes.

Ōkuno's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Now, Meito. You're not in trouble, not really. I just want to talk."

Meito stared at him for a long moment, before he sniffed and marched over to the chair, sitting down with an edge. "There. Happy?"

Ōkuno unleashed a silent breath of relief, sitting back down in his own chair. "Yes, very." He shot a look to the kids in the room and they all immediately went back to their quiet chattering. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back in his chair and gave Meito a concerned look. "Meito. . ." he began carefully, taking his time on drawing out the length of his name.

He looked away.

Ōkuno tilted his head at him, even more concerned. "This isn't so bad, okay? No need to. . ." he took his sweet time choosing the right word, "overreact," he decided slowly. He continued more assuredly then, "Your work doesn't look like you even tried. Were you guessing?"

Meito turned his nose up at the teacher, brown eyes blank. "Yeah, so?"

Ōkuno's frown deepened. "You seem so bright, Meito, I don't understand the difficulty."

Meito shrugged. "Looks are deceiving. For all you know, I'm retarded."

Ōkuno's eyes widened at the word and he looked over to the rest of the kids quick to make sure nobody had heard.

Meito sneered, "It's not a cuss word, Royal. If you can't handle the harsh fact, then go jump off a cliff. It'd sure save me a lot of time. I'd be home by now."

Ōkuno looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Some kids are very sensitive. That's not a nice word—"

"It's a fact," Meito ground out, teeth bearing. "Some people are stupid by nature, the 'R word'," he used air quotes mockingly, "just so happens to be the term for it, and I just so happen to be one of them. _Kids_ should stop being such babies and accept the facts. Maybe you should do the same." He crossed his arms and looked away again.

Ōkuno leaned back in his chair again, eyes wide. "You're older than thirteen, huh?" It was more of a statement, simple in nature, no judgment behind it.

Meito pouted, still not looking at him. "I'm fourteen, okay? It's not a big deal."

Ōkuno shook his head, not even hesitating in saying, "No it's not."

That got Meito's attention instantly, his eyes going round in all their rich darkness. They looked so different than before, all hardened up and snarky. They were clear now, vulnerable. It then became clear to Ōkuno that this boy had never had anyone agree with him before. It broke his heart. "You really think so?"

Ōkuno nodded his head surely, smiling with as much kindness as his heart could muster. "Of course. Everyone has their difficulties, Meito. You're no different than anyone else just because of one blunder."

Meito looked shocked.

Ōkuno couldn't have held back the offer even if he wanted, "Hey, how would you feel about having dinner with me and my family this evening? I know you got in trouble with the principal before, and I know he wants to punish you. . . I could offer my guidance instead—"

Meito interrupted him with a hand, eyes wide with incredulity. "Hold it, you. . . are seriously inviting me to. . . your house? Like with your family?"

Ōkuno raised an eyebrow, bemused. "Sure, if you'd like. We could discuss tutoring arrangements, get your grades high before you even know it. Maybe even skip a grade. . ." he hinted, eyebrows hopping.

Meito immediately snorted at that last part. "I'd really rather not."

Ōkuno blinked at him. "Why not?"

Meito's eyes seemed to widen for a split second before he sniffed out loud and waved a hand. "I mean I'll never be able to get grades _that_ good."

Ōkuno shrugged, smiling encouragingly. "You never know. You'd be surprised what can be accomplished if you just believe."

He didn't comment on that.

Ōkuno's smile was friendly, and he nudged him a little with his foot. "So what do you say?"

"I. . ." Meito blinked, scratching at his arm. "I don't know, I'd really have to check see if it was okay."

Ōkuno nodded understandingly, rolling his chair over to look back down at the pile of ungraded papers on his desk. "Oh, of course, ask you parents first. Ask if they can come as well." He waved an absent-minded hand at him, scratching a bit at his nose with his pen. "And I'll talk with the principal. We'll see how everything lines up." He looked up once more to gift him with a sincere smile.

Meito just nodded slowly, his mouth seeming unsure whether to smile or frown.

* * *

"You did _what_?" his wife's voice hissed at him through the phone.

Ōkuno winced, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I invited him to dinner. Is that bad?"

"Ōkuno," she yelled, some unidentified laughing going on in the background, "why would you do that? Did you even stop to think for a second how Kaiko might feel? How _I_ might feel?"

Ōkuno frowned, his hand dropping away. "Well, it's not a done deal yet, I'm asking you now. And I just, I couldn't help it, Honey, he just looked so sad—"

"Dick Head!" she barked, her voice sounding louder than before. He could just picture her shoving the mouthpiece half way down her throat in an attempt to scream at him louder. Even the funny thought couldn't comfort him as his wife lectured, "You asked me. . . _after_ you asked the principal! You _cannot_ keep bringing in these charity cases! We're a family, Ōkuno, have been for twenty-four years, and this is the third time _this month_. One of these days you're going to put us in real jeopardy. You'll bring someone in too far gone, and he'll end up murdering us with a weed whacker or butter knife or whatever else he can get his hands on, just slash us all to the bone and you know what then, Ōkuno? We'll be _dead_, and everything we've worked so hard to protect will have been for naught. It's time you grew up and just accepted that people are hopeless!"

"But Honey, he's a kid!" he countered, speaking imploringly into the phone. "What could he do that would be so dangerous? I saw him, I've been with him all day—he's perfectly safe, just a little confused. I promise."

"Ōkuno," she groaned.

"Darling." He looked down, sighing as he raked a hand through his untamable hair. "He reminds me of you, you know. . ." Ōkuno confessed, eyes closed and forehead against a locker.

She fell silent over the other end, though he could hear her breathing.

Ōkuno took it as a sign to go on, "Too outspoken for his own good, so full of anger. . . Oh, geez, Dear, if you could have seen the way he looked at me when I told him he wasn't stupid. If it weren't for the brown eyes, I'd have sworn it was you." He chuckled fondly. "You always did have the biggest eyes. I was always reminded of it whenever I said something to you that you didn't expect. They'd go almost as big as the sky itself."

His wife mumbled quietly, "Stupid little moronic geekbait. . ."

Ōkuno laughed deeply, shaking his head though she couldn't see. "You're such a jerk, Darling."

"I love you too," she replied sarcastically.

Ōkuno smiled into the phone for a few seconds, before he urged, "_So_?"

She sighed, the sound crackling over the cheap cell phone and sounding like it belonged to someone much older than her. "Fine, Ōkuno, _but_," she warned, "that's only _my_ agreement. I expect you to ask Kaiko too."

Ōkuno smiled mischievously. "Now why would she mind?"

"Oh, gee, I wonder," she snorted. "Just ask, moron. I've got to go, Akaito's trying to steal the phone from me and, whoa, whoa, wait—"

His son's voice suddenly hastily rang in his ear, making Ōkuno wince at it's unintended volume, "Yo, Daddykinz, Mama's gotta go now, _bye_!" The phone clicked off.

Ōkuno stared down at the phone in his hand for a moment, bewildered, before sighing and slipping it into his pocket.

"Um, Daddy?"

Ōkuno snapped around in pure fear, his heart jumping at seeing his youngest offspring staring up at him in innocent-eyed confusion. She blinked her huge blue eyes at him, her bow drooping. "Were you talking to Mom?"

Ōkuno blinked down at her, taking in fast-paced, steady breaths to try to calm himself down. "Uh, I, yes." His shoulders relaxed and he managed to put on a much less wan face. "Yes it was."

As if someone just flipped a switch, Kaiko grinned and stood up straight. "So we're going home now?"

"Um, well," Ōkuno tried to start.

"Hey, Mr. Shion, Mr. Shion!" Meito suddenly came running down the hall waving his hand, his other one occupied with carrying a rather heavy looking skateboard under his arm, and the straps of his helmet swinging back and forth. He stopped beside him and took a minute to catch his breath, before he launched into his news, "I called my parents and they're cool with me having dinner at your house! They can't make it but I—" his eyes came to lock onto Kaiko at that moment, and his jaw fell slack. After a second, he clenched his free hand into a fist and angrily inquired, "What's she doing here?" Looking back to her, he growled, "Scram, Pig. Get along back to your pen."

Kaiko's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "What am I doing here? He's _my_ dad! What are you doing here? And what do you mean you're having dinner at our house?" Her eyes snapped to Ōkuno's then, looking wretched, "What is he talking about?"

"Uh—" Ōkuno tried again, at a loss.

Meito interrupted any bumbled explanation he could have mustered, his eyes zipping from Kaiko to Ōkuno several times. "He's your _dad_?" He suddenly looked dizzy.

Kaiko nodded vigorously, mouth wide open. "Yeah! You couldn't see the resemblance? Or," she did a double take, "you never realized we have the same last name?"

Meito's eyes snapped to her again, looking fainter by the second. "Your last name is Shion?"

Kaiko gasped, repelling in disgust. "_You didn't know_?"

Meito scowled, leaning over into her personal space, much to her distaste. "Oh, please, as if you know mine!"

Kaiko flicked her eyes up, mouth setting angrily. "It's Sakine! Meito Haigō Sakine! How stupid can you possibly—"

"Now, kids, kids," Ōkuno cut in, his brain finally catching up with reality as he took a step to stand in between them, "there's no need to fight—"

"Oh, there's never any need," Kaiko hissed darkly, glaring at Meito around her father's legs. "Doesn't stop him."

Meito stared at her.

Ōkuno blinked his eyes wide, then cleared his throat. "Kaiko, look, I'm sorry I didn't ask you beforehand. I was going to, but I guess I just ran out of time." He smiled apologetically at his thirteen-year-old, who looked up at him as if he'd just committed the very worst form of betrayal. "I'm truly sorry. I'd like to fix this." He bent down and took one of her small hands, asking, "Kaiko, would it be okay if we had Meito over for dinner tonight?"

Kaiko stared at him in horror, her answer an involuntary squeak, "_No_!"

Meito jumped around Ōkuno's kneeled body and glared at her, throwing his skateboard down with a startling clatter that rang out through the hall. "Come on, _Kaiko_! I've gotta eat too, and my parents already think I'm going to your house!" He pointed to Ōkuno sharply, glaring, "No takesies backsies, Purple! It's not fair!"

Kaiko snorted, eyes sharp. "Since when do you care about what's fair?"

"Since right now," Meito announced importantly, standing up straighter and crossing his arms, nose high.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, _really_." He glared viciously, lips sneering. "I'm turning over a new leaf." He sniffed.

Kaiko's expression didn't budge. She didn't say anything more, just kept her angry distrusting look, eyes half-closed and one side of her mouth quirked down.

Ōkuno observed this for a second, lips pursed in trying hard not to smile. They were so much like—He shook his head, staying on task. "Kaiko, it's only for one night, and it's just to figure out some tutoring arrangements for Meito. Are you sure you can't survive one dinner?"

Kaiko looked at him with the saddest blue eyes he'd ever seen, their once bright, gumdrop-like vividness lost to gray. He immediately wished he could take back the question. Instead, though, Kaiko just bowed her head a little, bangs falling, and muttered, "Fine. . ."

Ōkuno was surprised for a split-second, but was shocked out of that when Meito suddenly jumped up high in the air. "Yes!" Grabbing up his skateboard from the floor, he started playing it as if it were an electric guitar.

Kaiko just sighed, turning away from them both and beginning down the hall. "Let's just go already."

* * *

The trip back to the house was fairly silent, the two kids scooted as far away from each other as they could manage in the back seat. Ōkuno was too afraid to set one of them off, so he stayed quiet.

It was a forty-minute drive to the house. An agonizingly silent forty minutes. The school was farther away from their home than the high school was. It wasn't until a bit later they realized just how far away the elementary actually was, though. His wife had been slapping her forehead about that one for months afterwards, but the neighborhood was beautiful enough that she came to not mind so much.

Plus his wife used to always stroke his hair in the dead of night when she thought he was asleep and whisper in his ear all the dreams she had for them. Dreams of coffee in Paris and non-stop adventure and thrills and a house by a lake with a white picket fence, 2.5 kids with big eyes and lovely hair. She'd easily persuaded him, and before he knew it he was having similar dreams. Finding a nice house by the lake in a city proved severely difficult, though, and they found themselves having to venture out of Sapporo to find what they were looking for. Lucky for them Sapporo was a relatively small city, and easily exited, right off into the countryside. It was quiet out there, peaceful. Or at least it was before they had kids.

And here they were now, twenty-three years later with their dream house, mostly secluded from the rest of the neighborhood with a picket fence and _too many _kids, all of which a handful—they definitely got their non-stop thrills there. They hadn't been to Paris yet, but he planned on correcting that someday.

Right now though, they were pulling into the driveway of the house. Ōkuno turned off the car and pulled his keys out, turning around to address the kids. "Well, we're here." He coughed a bit awkwardly, trying to be the adult despite his slight guilt in this situation.

He realized then that they weren't looking at him, but past him, their heads tilted. Ōkuno blinked and turned around to see the garage door slowly rising.

It rose up to reveal Akaito standing there tossing the remote back and forth in his hands, smirking at the car. As the door rose up as far as it could go and stopped, Akaito did a sweeping bow gesturing inside before walking backwards out of the way.

Ōkuno stared, unimpressed and unmoving.

Akaito stayed in the bow for a little while longer, before he realized nothing was happening and he straightened up, raising a brow. He pointed inside with a long arm.

Ōkuno didn't move.

Finally, Akaito's mouth twitched and he let his arm drop, eyes rolling. He walked over to the car and pointed for him to roll down the window, eyebrows furrowed.

Ōkuno shrugged and did so easily.

Akaito leaned on his arms inside of the car and raised his brow once more to his father. "Uh, Dad, I know you're not exactly the sharpest when it comes to picking up on hints, but I was very clearly signaling for you to pull the car inside." His expression went flat.

"Ohhh, is that what that was?" Ōkuno asked mock-innocently, leaning back in his seat. "I thought you were signaling in the family helicopter."

Akaito snorted, grinning at him. "Jesus, don't I _wish_. But seriously," he leaned in further, getting all up in Ōkuno's personal space, "there's supposed to be a storm today, and I don't want anything to fade or get dinged up by a tree branch or flying gerbil or something—"

"Akaito, it's my car," Ōkuno said flatly.

Akaito stuck out his tongue, shutting one eye for a second, before he grinned again brightly. "_For now_. When Leon finally gives in and gives you the Packard, though, Mom said I could have this car. So it's my _future_ car, Marty, and I don't want you screwing that up. Now either pull in the car, or I'll do it myself!" He made a grab for the keys.

Ōkuno held his hand back, though, arm stretching and leaning away from him as far as he could. "Whoa, whoa, you don't have a license yet, Akaito!"

Akaito pulled back from the car, grinning strangely. "Yeah, but I still have my permit, and you are an adult—so I can't be held liable for any damage or fiery explosions that may occur—"

"_Akaito_," Ōkuno deadpanned, giving him a look.

"_Ōkuno_," Akaito retorted with feigned graveness. "Stop being difficult and just pull the car in. It takes a minute." He pulled his head out from the car window and pointed to the garage.

Ōkuno gave him a tired look before sighing and sticking the key back in the ignition. As he pulled up into the garage and Akaito tried with all his might to pull the defective door back down, his feet dangling for only a moment before it came crashing and he yelped, Meito looked over at Kaiko blankly and said the first words of the evening, "Is that your brother?"

Kaiko didn't look at him, just muttered a simple, "Yep."

Meito paused for a moment before unbuckling his seat belt and expertly bypassing the child lock to get out of the car. "He's weird. I should have figured."

Kaiko gritted her teeth, her fists clenching in her lap.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

And this is only part one! This'll be just a two-part story because it was waaay too long, so I split this in half. I may just post the other half today, or tomorrow. Who knows. |D


	5. Little Miss Perfect: Part Two

_**A/N:**_

And here's parte dos! :D And so far, the only chapter that I've ever regretted typing out. |D

* * *

"Geez," Akaito winced, nursing his sore wrist. "The price you pay for your car."

"Ha," Nigaito smirked. "I wouldn't worry. You probably deserved it."

Akaito shot him an amused look, pushing him away as he walked through the hall in the direction of the kitchen.

Nigaito stumbled, only managing to gain his balance back when his hand hit the wall. Gaining back some composure, he glared menacingly at the back of Akaito's head, willing it to burst into flames.

Nigaito made to turn around then, only to have his green eyes smash into two judgmental brown ones. Stumbling back, he waved his arms at the stranger defensively, yelping. "Whoa, hold up, what the heck is _this_?" He looked around himself accusingly, putting his hands on his hips. "I don't remember anyone warning me about another one of Dad's losers."

Meito sniffed, ragingly offended, and stood to his full height. "I'm called a _guest_, Weed Head. I was invited here."

Nigaito looked at him dryly. "Wow, seriously? I never could have guessed that." He rolled his eyes and turned away from him, waving a hand behind himself as he walked away. "It doesn't matter. You'll be nothing more than a fading memory soon enough."

Meito's shoulders stiffened, and Kaiko traipsed daintily around him to follow after her brothers to the kitchen. She thought better of it, though, and stopped to wave Meito along. "Come on," her soft voice rang plainly.

Meito didn't make any expression and simply followed after her. Ōkuno wandered into the house and locked the door shut just in time to see them disappear into the dining room, and he smiled ever so slightly to himself. "So far so good. They haven't killed each other yet." Putting his keys away in his pocket, he scratched his head a little. "Kinda odd. She and I would have been screaming at each other by now. . ."

"_Hey, ya butt!_" his lovely wife's voice screeched across the house out of the blue, ripping the wallpaper to shreds. "Get your scrawny ass in here right now and start setting the table!"

Ōkuno smiled ruefully, shaking his head a little and making his shaggy, wild hair sway at the tips. Some things never changed; and it never failed to surprise him just how comforting he found that to be. Chuckling, he made his way down the hall and hollered back, "Coming, Honey! Patience is a virtue!"

"Yeah, and not one I possess—_hurry the heck up_!"

Wandering into the dining room, he found Akaito, Daito, Nigaito and Kagaito and Scarfy waging a battle of paper football, Kizaito, Mokaito, Kiaito, Kikaito, and Zeito sitting on the sidelines watching boredly. Kaiko hopped up to sit beside Nigaito, leaning closer over the table to try to better observe his technique. Meito stood at the end of the table awkwardly, eyes shifting around to take in the room.

But it was just a simple dining room. There wasn't anything interesting to behold. A plain, family-sized (for a king, perhaps) wooden table wiped to shine, old cushioned dining chairs, a large, glass cabinet to keep their dishes safe, and warm colored walls with a few paintings he'd done in college hung here and there. Pictures of fruit and nuts and an interestingly split tree he'd once seen on a class trip. Nothing that should engage such an intense interest, though. Smiling, Ōkuno walked over to the cabinet to pull out some plates and began setting them down on the table. Glancing over at Meito curiously for a moment, he divided some of the plates and offered a couple to him. "Hey, Meito, why don't you help me out a little? These are heavy."

Meito seemed startled, but he took the plates nonetheless and stuttered, "Uh, yeah, I guess—"

One of the plates slipped out from under his fingers and smashed into the floor, causing a violent shudder to wave through his small form.

"AH!" Hairaito jumped high in his seat after stepping in, pointing to the offending plate with his mouth wide. "The first sign of the apocalypse has struck! Quick, everyone, get under the table!" He screeched and ducked. Kamaito swooned and tried to gracefully fall into Mokaito's arms, only to have him shift away in his chair and land on Daito's hairdressing supplies on the floor.

Nigaito just gaped at the plate, eyes snapping from it to the boy's face in alarm. "_Kid_, what the heck?"

"Do ah yell Yahtzee nao?" Kizaito asked tiredly, yawning.

"Go Fish!" Usagaito and Dragaito cried out, while Scarfy held up a sign with a fish on it.

"Oh, that's fine," Ōkuno soothed, setting the plates down so he could kneel to observe the mess more closely. "Nothing I can't glue back together. I should have made sure you had a good grip on them before I let go." Standing back up again, he handed him another plate, adjusting his hands a little for him so they wouldn't fall, then smiled and went over to the cabinet again to get a new one. "No harm done."

Meito still shook a little in his spot, eyes straight ahead and dilated.

Akaito chuckled, flicking the paper football without looking as he observed the boy. It smacked into Nigaito's face dead center, but he didn't notice. "Hey, you okay over there?"

Meito blinked once, tightly, before snapping his eyes over to the teenager with his lips pursed. "I'm _fine_."

"Don't look fine to me," Akaito commented, shrugging. Turning his attention back to the game a moment, he laughed at Nigaito's glaring eyes and flat expression. Shaking his head, he added, "There's no reason to feel bad you know. Nigaito breaks the plates all the time. He's a total butterfingers."

Nigaito gawked at his audacity, slamming his hands on the table as he leaned over in offense. "I am not!"

"You are kind of a butterfingers, Nii," Zeito muttered tiredly, eyes bleary and head resting in a large hand on the table next to Kizaito.

Nigaito cut his eyes at him, flopping back down into his seat. "Way to take sides, _Yo-Yo Mush_."

Zeito sighed, opening his eyes wider. "You know I hate that—"

"Doi, Yo-Yo, that's the point," Nigaito deadpanned, looking at him sarcastically.

Zeito shook his head. "I was just saying, Nii. I didn't mean to offend you."

"_Okay_, then how about I call you a two-bit dweebasaurus rex then, huh?" Nigaito asked, voice raising an octave higher and eyes going a wild, forest green, set aflame with madness. "How about I tell you you're nothing but a pretty-faced nerd with no actual prospects or future and that you'll probably end up as one of those losers that sit around on the phone all day calling families like us right in the middle of dinner time in hopes that they'll buy something that _nobody_ on this _God forsaken_ planet _actually wants_? Huh? Why don't I tell you that, and then just assume you won't get offended because, hooo, _it's only the facts_! I was only meaning to _inform you_!" Nigaito near screamed, leaning over the table all the way to get as close as he possibly could to Zeito's beleaguered face. "You imbecilic beast! What intricate mediocrity you wrought without barely a blink! You're no better than Mom when she tells me to finish those infernal peas!"

"Nigaito," Ōkuno said unperturbed, placing a plate in front of him, "sit back down please. We're not having peas tonight."

"Oh," Nigaito faltered in his outrage and blinked his eyes a few times as his expression relaxed. "Oh. . . Well," he sat back down calmly and ran a hand down his sweater to clear it of any wrinkles, "all righty then."

"You went off your medication again, didn't you?" Kikaito asked in a deep tone, leaning on his elbow across the table to look at him with a mockingly grave expression. Nigaito just gave his other brother a flat faced look in response, unimpressed with his quip.

"Wow," the boy still standing at the end of the table murmured, bringing everyone's attention to him. His eyes roved slowly over them all with the strangest look they'd ever seen. "You're all nuts."

They all paused at that, eyes blinking.

"Uh," Zeito raised a lazy hand in the air, waving it a little, "I'm not. In my defense."

"Ah, Yo," Taito sighed wistfully, sliding an arm around Zeito's shoulders and giving him a firm pat with his free hand, "we will soon fix that."

Zeito tried to loosen Taito's grip on him. He had a pretty good idea that wasn't red dye on his bandages. . . "I'd really rather you didn't—"

"All right, ya bunch of bone heads," Their mother's voice came booming as she waltzed into the room, carrying a heavy pot in her wake, "soups on!" She lifted the pot up and let it fall with a racket onto the table.

Ōkuno was at her side in an instant, looking her over worriedly. "Are you okay, Dear? You know I could have helped—"

"Oh, I don't need any help," She waved him off before casting him a loving smile. She rarely ever needed his help but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate the gentlemanly offer. Even if she had needed help, she never wanted to take advantage of his sweet nature. That was what everyone else did—but not her, never her. Wiping her hands off on her apron, she tore it off and placed it over her chair, speaking to the room, "Okay, since I heard we had a guest coming over, I tried to be a little fancier than usual." She rolled her eyes with a smile, pulling the lid off the pot to reveal a steaming. . . thing. "So I made asparagus and ham casserole."

Kageito's pupils dilated as soon as his eyes connected with it, and he looked up at her, wide-eyed and sickly pale. "Geez, Mom. . . wh-why would you do this? I thought you loved me."

Their mother raised an eyebrow at him and leaned over to run a hand through his soft black hair. "Of course I love you, darling. It won't kill you to try it."

Akaito shook his head and laid back in his chair to cast the idly standing Meito an apologetic look. "Sorry for this, kid. Shion women aren't known for their cooking ability. Just, if an alien insectoid doesn't rip out of your stomach within the next twenty-four hours, you should be safe."

His mother whacked him in the head with her spatula, unamused. "You keep quiet, Little Annie. You know the rules, no being a dork at the dinner table."

"I'm not little anymore!" Akaito yelped, sinking low in his seat with a disturbed pout.

She shot him a look. "Maybe not now, but the ceramic pot you're about to get to the head should shrink you down a few inches again."

Daito cackled, pointing at him across the table with wicked delight. "Oh, she got you!"

Akaito exhaled a puff of hot air from his nose, grumbling.

Ōkuno pulled another chair up to the table and sat down in the seat beside it, next to Mokaito, and gestured it to the brown-eyed boy. "You can sit here, Meito," he offered warmly.

Meito looked at it oddly, before pulling the chair out and hopping up into it. He sat the plates he still had in his hands out onto the middle of the table, a little embarrassed that he hadn't done anything with them before. Coughing uncomfortably, he said mechanically, "Thank you, Mrs. Shion. This looks really good."

Mrs. Shion did a little silent scoff to herself, beginning to cut into the casserole. "Yes, even a woman with the name _Shion_ can make a nice meal for her family."

"Darling," Ōkuno scolded quietly, shooting a look her way.

She shrugged her shoulders innocently, placing the neat little crumble onto her daughter's plate. "I'm just putting it out there."

Taito leaned over to mumble out of the corner of his mouth to Ōkuno, "Do I want to know?"

Ōkuno sighed. "Probably."

Before he could inquire any further, a plate clattered in front of Taito, making him start. "No whispering at the table." She slid a piece of casserole onto his plate, giving him a sharp warning look. He just folded his hands together and grinned his brightest behind them in return.

"Cookie," Zeito's questioning tone sounded as he looked at her curiously, "you haven't said anything since you got here. Are you okay?"

Kaiko looked up at him, her face soft and subdued and not at all lit with it's usual bubbly smile. "I'm fine, Zei-tan."

"_Tan_?" Meito suddenly piped in a ridiculous voice, twisting around to look at the teenager with his face twisted, "What kind of a name is that?"

Zeito blinked, startled. "Uh, it's just a nickname—"

Meito snorted, his lips sneering. "That's stupid. Tan's for girls. Are you some kind of transvestite hiding underneath that jacket of yours?"

"Hey!" Nigaito suddenly shouted, standing up from his seat furiously with an intense scowl. "Who the heck do you think you are? You shut your trap!"

"Nigaito—" Ōkuno tried.

"No!" Nigaito snapped, pointing at him still with a scowl. "No, no, no, don't you 'Nigaito' me! He said it himself, he's a guest, and that means he's required to shut the heck up!"

"Nii, it's okay." Zeito put a hand up, face clean of emotion and still heavy with needed sleep. "I'm used to people joking around about it."

"Then why don't you change it?" Meito's voice came in high-pitched incredulity, staring at him.

"Um, Mom," Kaiko piped up timidly, wishing desperately for this to end, "there aren't any forks."

She'd said this just as her mother had sat down, and her shoulders stiffened instantly at the information. Eyes darting around the table, she realized she was correct. There was a pause in her movements, before she slid back up from her chair with a dark toned grumble and marched angrily over to the cabinet to pull some silverware from the drawer. "Always a damn production."

Ōkuno laughed sheepishly, rising from his seat to help her. "I'm sorry, dear, it completely slipped my mind."

Mrs. Shion just rolled her eyes, shoving the silverware into his hands. Things always slipped his mind when he was on one of his little charity ventures.

As his father set the silverware beside his plate, Nigaito begrudgingly sank back down into his chair, keeping his eyes slit at their 'guest.'

"So," Kizaito clapped his hands together, changing the subject for Kaiko's sake, "foist day back in school. Total 'ell, am ah roight?"

Kikaito immediately groaned, slamming his head down onto his arm on the table. "You have _no idea_. I'm going to kill whoever's idea it was to have a big test on the first week back in school."

"_Ha_," Nigaito laughed once with a smirk.

This managed to get Zeito's attention, and he turned his head with his red eyes wide at his younger brother, mouth falling slowly open. "_First_ you scream at me, _then_ you defend me, _and_ now you're laughing at our brother's pain. Will I _ever_ understand you, Nigaito?"

Nigaito pouted his lips out, flicking a loose green bean at him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Their mother raised her voice, smacking his hand down. "No food fights. I'm not having a repeat of last month's fiasco. I'm still finding scraps of beans around the house." She shot her eyes up with a grimace.

"It flew so elegantly," Akaito reminisced with a far away look. "Who knew?"

"Never should have given them plastic cutlery," Ōkuno murmured, picking up some casserole with his fork and putting it in his mouth.

"Yeah, we really shouldn't have been lazy with the dishes that night," she sighed, shaking her head. "Lesson learned."

Kaiko giggled at this show, forgetting herself, and announced with a gleam, "I love beans."

Apparently this inspired Meito to sniff out, "I hate beans."

Nigaito cut his eyes at him, one hand absentmindedly picking at his food. He snapped his head to his father and asked lowly, his mouth as slow to form the words as his brain was in accepting them, "Why is he here?"

Ōkuno's eyes flew apologetically from a stiff-lipped Kaiko to Nigaito, and straightened up in his chair, trying to be the professional he was as he explained, "Meito just had a little trouble today in class, so I invited him over to discuss tutoring arrangements." The response came a bit too mechanical for his liking.

Nigaito barked out a cruel laugh, destroying any pleasant atmosphere that had been residing in the room, before he bowed his head down, green eyes dark beneath his messy locks as he stared at the fourteen year old. "Sweezus, he must be really dumb to be needing _tutoring_."

Meito looked stricken, chest heaving as if he was about to scream something really inappropriate.

Ōkuno stopped any such catastrophe from occurring when he slammed his fist down on the table, yelling, "Nigaito Fuuga Shion! You apologize right now!"

"Okay," Nigaito chimed too brightly, smiling insincerely at Meito, "I'm sorry you're an idiot."

"_Nigaito_!"

His mother leaned forward in her seat, scowling warningly at him with a fork pointed. "Listen to your father, Nigaito, or so help me—"

"It's not my fault he's a jerk!" Nigaito yelled, offended he was even getting in trouble for this.

"You're the one being the jerk, Nii," Mokaito tried to tell him calmly.

Nigaito's eyes flashed and he opened his mouth to protest when suddenly his eyes bolted open and he yelped in pain. Reaching a hand down to nurse his leg, he glared at Akaito. "Did you _kick me_?"

Akaito shrugged slightly, eyes down, and muttered quietly, "Just apologize, Nigaito."

Still rubbing his sore leg, he stared in gaping disbelief.

"Nigaito—" Ōkuno tried once more, reaching a hand out in gesture.

The room fell violently silent when Meito's chair suddenly screeched against the floorboards, and his voice bellowed hoarsely across the room in lightbulb shattering rage, "_Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" _

Seeing them all shell-shocked into quiet, Meito huffed and sank back down into his seat. "Good." He went back to eating his food, as if he hadn't just scared the living daylights out of everyone.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Shion wheezed out a tense breath, unsure whether to be angry or thankful. "Uh. . .that was. . ."

"Interesting. . ." Ōkuno finished for her, staring at the boy out of the corner of his eye as he ate.

"And by interesting, you mean _boss_," Akaito giggled, lightening the mood a tad.

"_I_ think it was _rude_."

All eyes snapped in surprise to Kaiko, where she had her eyes narrowed fiercely at Meito. He blinked at her, dark eyes just as surprised. He managed to gain back enough composure to huff at her, though, and bit out with a mock, "Nobody asked you, _Cookie_."

She growled, her fists clenching under the table. "You weaseled your way into my home, you should at least be polite."

"I was _invited_," he ground out, daggers flying from his eyes. "I didn't want to come."

"Then you shouldn't have."

"Your _dad_ insisted."

"Yes," she agreed in a lighter tone, sitting up straight in her seat, "because he's nice. Unlike you."

Meito harrumphed, having no more to add.

"So. . ." Taito drew out awkwardly to the strange atmosphere, before a grin broke out on his face and he looked at his dad, "who's gonna, ya know, tutor the kid?"

Ōkuno, grateful for the subject change, spoke honestly, "Well, I was thinking at the end of the school day every other day I could stay at the school an extra hour to give him a little help."

"Ōkuno," his wife frowned at him, "you know you drive Kaiko home every day. If you stayed after for an extra hour, who's going to take her home? Me? You know how much gas that eats up."

"Well," Ōkuno hesitated, wincing a little as he finished slowly, "I was thinking she could help. . ."

Kaiko's face was swept of all emotion as soon as these words reached her.

Mrs. Shion bowed her head ever so slightly, giving him a look that told him she knew exactly what he was doing. Casually popping another bite of food into her mouth, she stuffed it into one cheek and said, innocently enough, "Oh, well, I guess that would work. If Kaiko was okay with it anyway."

"Um," Kaiko babbled out, her posture tense.

Meito stared at her, waiting.

The chocolate eyes on her made her even more uncomfortable, and she sputtered desperately, "Couldn't I just stay over at Iroha's on those days instead? Then her dad could drive me back to school in the morning?" Kaiko seemed enchanted with the idea, growing ever more enthused as she went on, "We could do our homework together and write poems and play tea party." Hands clasping themselves over the table, she leaned over to look almost beggingly at her father. "Oh, Daddy, _please _could I?"

Shoulders and expression stiff, Ōkuno's eye twitched slightly.

His wife noticed this and jumped in to save him, looking adoringly at her youngest, "Sweetheart, we don't even know if they'd be okay with that."

"We could _ask_," Kaiko begged, choking slightly on the thick emotion.

Mrs. Shion had never seen her daughter frown so much. Her heart clenched. "Uh, I, um. . ." She broke into a sweat, struggling to keep her resolve. She never thought it would be so hard to refuse anyone of the 'Little Miss Perfect' variety. It just so figured she would give birth to one. She hated irony. She tried to swallow, only to realize her mouth was bone dry.

Nigaito and Taito was gobbling up their food without even looking, absorbed in the scene, as if it were one of his favorite movies. Akaito and a good bit of his other brothers just looked awkward, sitting there in such an uncomfortable atmosphere and having to bite back comment after comment. Zeito and Kizaito had long dozed off in their seats, heads resting against their shoulders together and quiet snores falling from their lips.

Ōkuno bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood, hoping and praying someone would say something before he could.

He was saved when the phone rang suddenly, startling the two sleepy heads enough that when they jerked away, their faces splattered down into their respected casseroles. Head shooting back up, Zeito coughed, his hand dragging down his face to try to remove the remnants of green beans. It was just the thing needed to break Akaito from his nervousness and make him explode into laughter.

Voice more relieved that he'd have liked to betray, Ōkuno wondered aloud as he stood up, "Now who could that be?"

"Betcha it's a telemarketer," Nigaito guessed glumly, disappointed with the interruption.

As Ōkuno exited the room, Mrs. Shion stared tentatively at the children. Things were not going quite as planned for her husband, she was sure, but she was uncertain of how exactly to assist. For whatever reason, she'd assumed something like this wouldn't be happening until well into their golden years, and although they were not the young, vivacious twenty-year-olds they once had been, they certainly were not elderly. She supposed in retrospect she should have seen this coming. Kids picked on each other all the time, and who wouldn't be charmed by dear sweet Kaiko? The splitting image of her father that she was, and certain other people that would remain unnamed for eternity. Angel ran in the family. But still, she felt unprepared.

A cough broke her from her thoughts when her husband reentered the room and sat down, his face down. "Just someone asking if we had life insurance."

"Called it," Nigaito grinned, doing a small fist pump in victory. "Zeito's future job strikes again."

Zeito growled a little at him, still feebly attempting to wipe spare bits of ham and green beans from his face, while Kizaito was quietly doing the same.

Taito and Akaito grinned their approval, just as Kaiko was sinking down in her seat, the only things peaking out from under the table being the top half of big, brilliantly shining blue eyes and the top of her giant bow. Ōkuno noticed this and coughed again, having had a little time to collect himself. "Kaiko. . ." he began gently.

She just groaned and ducked her head fully under.

Just as Ōkuno was opening his mouth, a hand came down on his shoulder and he looked over to see Akaito giving him a look. It was one he'd worn many times himself as a child, the one that let people know just what he thought of their harebrained schemes. But, perhaps against his better judgment, Ōkuno shook his head at him. Akaito just sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, his face expertly cleared of emotion.

Opening his mouth, Ōkuno began once more, "Cookie, sweetie, an arrangement like that would be rather complicated to sort out. And it would only be going on for a few weeks, tops."

Her voice made a small whine from under the table.

Meito seemed to have had enough of this charade, and he pushed his plate away with a jerk and crossed his arms roughly over his chest, eyes hidden beneath his eyebrows. "Hey, if the little princess can't be bothered for one measly little hour of her time, then who cares? Let her go over to her stupid little friend's house."

Within half a second, the room was ablaze from Kaiko's death stare as she snapped up from under the table. The burning rage that tumbled and swirled beneath her normally serene eyes was enough to make Meito's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he glared back pathetically.

"I mean," he had the nerve to add, "after all, Kaiko _always_ gets her way. Why should now be any different?"

"You want," she shoved herself up from the table, the words tumbling out strained, "to be, tutored? _Fine_." Her soft voice wavered as she took in a harsh breath. "One times one equals one, two times two equals four, three times three equals nine—get it so far? Because you'd be surprised just how simple things become, when you _pay attention _to the right way of _doing them_." Looking down, she asked quietly, "May I be excused now?"

"Uh," both Ōkuno and his wife started in a baffled fluster.

Not waiting for any further permission, she wandered calmly out of the room.

Meito stared after her facelessly.

"So," Nigaito started, completely unaffected by what had just taken place as he balanced his fork between his forefingers and looked casually at Meito, "your problem's in math? First year multiplication? Fascinating. . . Funny, though, I don't recall that ever being all that difficult—OW!" He glared at Akaito, who just cut his eyes back in response.

"I need sleep," Zeito groaned, throwing his head back.

* * *

A knock came at the door.

An agonized moan was pressed into the pillow as she pulled it harder over her head. She made no further response.

There was a pause on the other side of the door, before it opened up a crack and one large eye peeked inside. "Kaiko?" a soft, motherly voice came.

Kaiko sighed, pulling the soft blue pillow from her face. She kept her eyes on the ceiling. "Is he gone?"

Her mother entered the room, not bothering to flick the light on, and walked over to her daughter's dimly lit beside. Pulling up the chair they'd kept by her bed whenever she insisted on a bedtime story, she sat down and stroked her bangs back from her eyes. "Your father's driving him home now."

Kaiko didn't react to her mother's touch. Normally she would smile or blink her eyes wide and happy at her, but now she just kept her eyes up to the ceiling. "Good."

Mrs. Shion pursed her lips, concern stressing at her brow. The room was silent for a while as she began chewing at her lip, unsure of what to say. She used to be so much better at planning things out. Motherhood had made her soft—too concerned to think before she acted. She mentally smacked herself for her thoughtlessness. Of all the times. This could be a very critical conversation and here she was sitting like a clueless idiot. She was starting to understand how her husband must feel all the time.

The sound of her daughter's soft voice nearly made her fall over in shock, "I didn't want him to come. I don't want to tutor him." Her big blue eyes turned over to look up at her, the light of the lamp reflecting off of them. "I really don't. Do I have to?"

Her mother gulped, eyes wide. A moment later, she answered, "Well, you don't have to if you really don't want to, but you already said you would. Your father would be disappointed." For her mother, this would have been an obvious out, and one she would have gleefully taken, but she knew her daughter better than that. She couldn't say no to something she'd already agreed to.

She furrowed her brows at this, displeased with the reminder.

Her face softening some, her mother ceased stroking her hair and put her hand down on the bed to support herself as she leaned closer with a reassuring smile. "It won't be so bad, angel. Who knows? Maybe it'll turn out better than you think." Her smile turned a bit sly.

At this, her daughter's face darkened and her eyebrows dropped. She didn't even have time to be surprised before Kaiko mumbled, "That's what I'm afraid of."

"What?" She blinked.

"Nothing," Kaiko sulked, turning over on her side and pulling the covers up over herself. Her next words came as a muffle, "I just don't want to. You saw how rude he is. Why should I have to deal with that anymore than I have to?"

Mrs. Shion chuckled, smiling fondly at the pale blue lump. "You remind me so much of your father sometimes."

The lump didn't respond to that. She could just imagine the confused look on Kaiko's face at the seemingly random statement. Grinning with mischievous amusement, she added, "Now I'm sure he can't be _that_ bad, Cookie. He just needs a little help with math is all, and Ōkuno will be there the entire time. It's not like we're sending you in to face down a bull."

The lump grumbled at that.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Shion rose from her seat and leaned down to kiss the lump's head. "It's about bed time for you, my love. Get some sleep. You've got school in the morning."

Kaiko never thought she'd see the day she'd be loathing the idea of going to school. She groaned beneath the covers and stretched her toes out, her mind raging.

She heard her mother click off the light and head for the door. As the near silent creak of it beginning to close reached her ears, her mother uttered some final words, "You know, I think he likes you more than he lets on."

There were a few quiet moments of silence then, before her mother softly shut the door with a deft click.

Just as she closed the door, Kaiko pulled the covers from her head and shot her eyes to the ceiling. "_I know_," she groaned in utter despair, pulling her pillow up over her head again to muffle her screams.

* * *

The drive to his home was silent. For his part, Meito's face remained impassive the entire way, his eyes staring out the window, seeing but not seeing.

Ōkuno was careful when he glanced at him in the mirror. Despite it, though, he'd made eye contact with him a couple times, though he hadn't seemed to care. He'd just stared blankly back before Ōkuno looked away.

He'd called ahead for directions before they'd come. The woman on the phone had been soft-voiced and a bit hesitant at times. She seemed nice, albeit a bit confused. Ōkuno wondered if Meito had really called to ask permission or not, because she'd asked a lot of questions about things she should have already known. He hadn't pressed it, though. He found himself trusting this boy. He wasn't sure why. He just struck a cord in him. He seemed so familiar. At first he'd dismissed it as him reminding him of his wife, which he did, but he knew it was more than that. He felt like he knew him somehow. Though that was impossible.

His head swimming with thoughts, he pulled up into the driveway of the apartment complex and turned the car off. As the metal beast clicked to sleep, he turned around in his seat to face Meito only to see he was already getting out of the car. Eyes wide with surprise, Ōkuno blinked and jerked a little when the door slammed shut.

He turned around and got out of the car. As he clicked the button on his keys to lock the doors, he looked over to where he'd thought Meito had headed off. His body jerked around when he realized he was gone.

Some panic gripping at him unbidden, he called out as calmly as he could, "Meito?"

"Go home."

Going rigid for only a second, Ōkuno blinked out of his surprise and turned slowly around. Meito was leaning against the back of the car near where the trunk was popped open, his backpack hanging carelessly from one of his shoulders with his skateboard sticking out.

Ōkuno's jaw dropped. He hadn't opened the trunk. "How did you. . . ?"

Meito held up a screwdriver. His voice came without any real tone, "I popped it open as we were pulling up. Your car is old. I'd get a new one if I were you. This one would be easily robbed."

Ōkuno blinked incredulously. "I didn't hear it open."

Meito shrugged, stuffing the screwdriver back into his pocket. "You weren't paying attention. Not my problem." He sniffed, adjusting his backpack a little as he stood back up from against the car. "Look, we can start this whole tutoring thing on Wednesday. I've got plans tomorrow." He began towards the metal stairs, tossing over his shoulder as he passed him, "Now go home."

Ōkuno blinked once more, before he ran over to him and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He started, jerking his hand off as he swiveled around. He looked up at him with a tinge of anger. "What?"

Ōkuno withdrew his hand from the air. "I can't just let you go up there alone." He tried smiling.

Meito just frowned deeply, before reaching behind himself and pulling something out of his pocket. For a second Ōkuno thought it would be another screwdriver or some kind of weapon, but instead he just held up a key, not offering it to him, just showing. "I can go up fine on my own. I do it all the time."

Ōkuno's eyes widened. "You're thirteen."

"And you're balding. You don't see me pointing it out." He scowled. "Go home."

"I—"

"Just go already. Your _family's_ waiting," his voice grumbled lowly, before he turned around and marched purposely towards the apartments.

Ōkuno blinked, a blind hand reaching up to touch at his hair.

Just as Meito was halfway up the creaky metal of the stairs, he heard an extra loud squeak and snapped his head around to see Ōkuno following after him. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

Ōkuno just sighed and pushed him along up the stairs, not bothering to answer. That would only invoke an argument and this wasn't something they could discuss.

Meito was unwillingly pushed up the remainder of the stairs, forced to listen to them groan and wail at the added weight. It wasn't long before he was being led along the long balcony, riddled with dried mud and desperately in need of some TLC.

As they made it to the door of his apartment, 13, Ōkuno gave a strong few knocks on the door. Meito glared at him and held up his key again, waving it around in a 'Duh' motion. He didn't hesitate to stuff the key in the lock, but just as he was about to turn it the door swung open. Meito jumped back in shock, bumping his back into Ōkuno's legs. Ōkuno would have wondered why he was so jumpy, but he was too busy wondering why he hadn't mentioned he had a grandma.

The woman looked to be about in her sixties, her face slightly chubby and flushed with health. Her gray hair framed her face and her maroon eyes blinked at him in surprise.

Ōkuno smiled a congenial smile. "Hello, I'm Ōkuno Shion, Meito's teacher. I just came over to drop Meito off." He patted Meito on the shoulder, noting how tense it was. Looking down at him, he asked the woman, "Are his parents home? I'd like to have a word with them."

The woman blinked again, eyeing the boy before looking back up at him with a strange face. "I'm afraid not. . . Haven't been for four years now."

Ōkuno's eyes widened. Meito pulled away from his suddenly tight grip on his shoulder and pushed past the lady into the house.

"Meito," Ōkuno called.

"Oh, leave him be," the woman said with a smile, looking at him with a level of understanding. "He's a sweet boy but he just needs a little time to himself every once in a while." She reached forward to shake his hand. "I'm Mona Kizu, Meito's aunt."

Ōkuno made a small noise of surprise, before shaking her hand back. Aunt. But she looked so old. . . Now that he looked at her he supposed she could pass for fifty. He found himself flushing a little at having assumed such a thing about such a nice woman. "Um, it's nice to meet you. . ." He smiled, a tad lost. "But where are his parents? If I may ask, I mean. . ."

The woman's smile lessened.

Ōkuno stumbled to explain, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't ask, but he'd said—"

"Oh no, no, it's fine," she waved him off, her smile the same. "He does this all the time." She dragged a long sigh from her mouth, leaning her hip against the doorframe. "His mother went up and left one day, and it devastated his father. Ended up dropping him off with me and carting off. Something about not being a good enough father for him. Haven't seen either since. My sister can be rather thoughtless but I'd thought better of him. It's a shame." Shaking her head, she widened her smile a little at him, trying to lighten things up a bit. "He's a good boy, though. His father sends money from time to time, always makes him so happy." Her smile vanished. "He hasn't gotten in trouble has he?"

"Huh? Oh, not at all," Ōkuno assured her, a bit dazed. Shaking his head, he tried to smile more kindly and professional. "He's just been having some trouble in math. It's the same case every time—he just doesn't know what he's capable of. I know inviting him over for dinner might have seemed a little unorthodox but I like to take a more hands on approach with my students. I was hoping I could tutor him on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to help him improve."

"Oh, no trouble at all," she smiled. She hesitated then, and Ōkuno got the chilling vibe that he was under a severe amount of scrutiny. "Would it. . ." she started suddenly, seeming reluctant about something, "Would it be a problem if he had the tutoring sessions here?"

Ōkuno tried to maintain his smile, despite the sudden uncomfortableness that had settled between them. "Well, I was thinking I could just tutor him in the classroom after class. It would only be for an hour, and it would save gas. I could drive him home since you don't live too far off from the school. Is that a problem?"

"Oh, well. . ." She bit her lip.

It suddenly dawned on Ōkuno that he was a complete stranger to this woman, coming to her home after only the first day of school. Of course she wouldn't trust him. He wouldn't trust himself either. As the realization swept over him, Ōkuno rooted himself to his spot, embarrassed. "Oh, I am so sorry. I know this is very out of the blue. . . My daughter would be with us, if that helps."

"Oh, you're married?" She softened a tad.

Ōkuno's face lit up without his realizing. "Yes, twenty-four years. With more kids than we can count."

Mona threw her head back in warm laughter. Shaking her head at him, she grinned with cheeks flushed, "Ohhh, you sure have your hands full."

Ōkuno's smile was immediately weighted down with the truth in that statement. "Oh, you have _no_ idea. . ." Wanting to prove it to her and further reassure her of his safety, he pulled his wallet out and flipped it open, a tumble of photos falling out in a neat plastic link like an accordion. She made a small noise of delight as she browsed through the pictures. "Is this your daughter?" She held one up with a grin.

Ōkuno chuckled. Women always got all gushy whenever he mentioned his kids. He couldn't blame them—especially not when it came to Kaiko. She was darling. Smiling as he looked down at the picture, a bit faded around the edges, he pulled it out so she could see it more clearly. His thumbs fit perfectly in the faded edges of the photograph, and he chuckled again without meaning to. It had been taken at a trip to the beach when she was three, and she was the smallest thing, grinning too big at the camera with the water lapping her feet. "Yep, that's my Cookie."

She cooed over the picture, making the strange, alien noises that spluttered out of people when they saw babies. "Oh, she's precious. How old is she now?"

"Thirteen—and three months if you listen to her." He grinned, in quite the good mood now as he looked at the pictures. Pictures of his eldest, Kaito at five, pouting after his ice cream had fallen with Akaito and Taito laughing at him, Kikaito at twelve trying to push a ten-year-old Kiaito out of the picture as he crossed his eyes at the camera with his tongue sticking out, Kaiko dressed in her best hoisted up on Zukari's shoulders in her wedding dress with them grinning like fools, his wife guffawing at a gaping Akaito when Kageito and Scarfy had pushed his birthday cake into his face, Leon giving a horrified Nigaito a big kiss on the cheek, and then, his personal favorite, their family portrait—AKA, Dooms Day, Volume 6. His wife was the only one that actually looked pleasant. Ōkuno had his hand pressed up against Akaito's face to try to calm him down with his face frozen in shock at the camera going off, Kiziato, Taito, Kamaito, Mokaito and Daito laughing ferociously with their fingers pointed at Akaito, Dragiato and Kageito shyly masking their faces with the help of Scarfy, Kikaito, Kiaito, and Kaito pulling at each other's cheeks, and Nigaito glaring nastily at Kaiko, Kizaito and Zeito, looking ready to burst with his face bright red, as they both looked at him cluelessly. He didn't know how they had all managed to get themselves so worked up right before picture day, but they'd accomplished it.

He was snapped out of his reminiscing when Mona handed the picture back to him, her face flushed with a sudden likeness towards him. "Oh, that is too cute. I'd always wanted a daughter. You're very lucky."

Ōkuno's eyes softened. "I know."

Before any further words could be exchanged, Meito suddenly shoved his way into the doorway in front of his aunt and glared up at his new teacher. "Yeah, very lucky, very lucky, we get it—_now go home already_!" The door slammed shut in his face, a gust of overly freshened air bursting in his face.

Ōkuno stared at the door a while, his wallet still out and free hand clutching onto the faded photo. He stared at nothing, feeling the cool wet of raindrops begin to kiss at his nose. Before long, he wordlessly placed the picture back into his wallet and put it away, before turning to the creaking metal deathtrap that was the staircase. His eyes still soft, he began down it to his car. "I will."

* * *

By the time Ōkuno arrived home, he'd come to a decision.

Talking to that woman had reminded him of just how lucky he truly was. Once upon a time he'd been an orphan living in a boarding house with a family that most of which he wasn't even related to and who spoke an entirely different language. He'd always tried to make do and see what he had for it's full worth, but that hadn't changed that he'd still been sad, even though he had been adopted by his grandparents Leon and Lola. He knew exactly how Meito felt. Having your parents just up and leave at the drop of a hat and never coming back was confusing and hurtful. He'd had to live with that pain for most of his childhood as well.

He'd been a feminine-looking young boy who was far too tall for his age, accompanied with an awkward gait and purple-rimmed glasses that were ten times too thick, with kids constantly snickering at him because they thought his over-sized, hand-me-down shirts were dresses in disguise. He'd often felt alone, but he'd grown used to it. Accustomed even. It had matured him, and he'd found himself humbled to the world. This big, exciting world that seemed so small and plain without his loved ones.

But everything had changed, and now he was here. It felt strange to be so old. He didn't feel old. Most of his childhood memories still felt just like yesterday. He could remember riding bikes and shouting under tree branches and reading the latest manga in his room; laughing at his crazy friends and blushing at his then-girlfriend in class and kissing under shady trees. But most of all now, he could remember romantic nights in the dark that had lead to crazily scuttling feet along floorboards and countless nights being woken up by the sound of anguished wails.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt lonely. If anything, any time alone at all was a relief, for it was short-lived. He forgot sometimes just how lucky he was. Somewhere between Akaito's stupid faces, Nigaito's dramatic outbursts, Zeito's proclamations of heart-shattering career choices, and Kaiko scuttling away with every sugary item in the house, to name a few, the thought had been washed over with exhaustion.

Kaiko. . .

Wandering away from the doorway to the living room, where his boys were all staring lazily at some action flick raging on the television, he quietly made his way up the staircase. Mindful of the slight creak in the door, he cracked it open just a slight bit to look inside.

The night-light she'd insisted she didn't need was plugged in beside her bed, and Ōkuno hid a smile just in case she was awake. But she didn't stir, and he managed to squint his eyes enough to see that her eyes were closed. His smile widening slightly, he shut the door with a soft click and wandered back down the stairs.

He'd just wanted to tell her she could go along with Iroha after all. Not all the days, but he figured three times a week was a bit cruel. They were just kids, after all. There was nothing wrong with taking things slow. With how adamant she'd been about how rude and mean Meito was, it was probably for the best. He didn't want to give up his little girl that quickly anyway. Not for a long time.

Oh well. They wouldn't be starting tutoring until Wednesday anyway. He could always tell her later.

* * *

Kaiko chatted with Iroha in the halls of the school before class, retelling the horrific events of the other night. It was already halfway through the school day, but Meito had yet to show. It was a serious relief to her system but that didn't change the dreadful things that had already come to pass.

"Kit-Kat," she squeaked in mortification, "they're making me tutor him. He was _in my house_. He completely intruded and broke plates and yelled at my mom and dad, and, and they're making me tutor him. Can you believe it? I'm still in shock."

Iroha blinked at her, her normally relaxed face twisted in surprised bafflement. She looked uncomfortable. "That. . . is a bit much. . ."

Something snapped in the air, the atmosphere crashing around them like a million pieces of flesh-tearing glass. Kaiko's head slowly twisted around to stare at her, her face stiff, before she suddenly had Iroha up by her collar and was nose to nose to her best friend. She gripped her collar tight enough to cut off her air supply—she didn't need it, though, she'd long stopped breathing. Kaiko's voice came out as an incredulous squeak, "_You think I don't know that?_ A bit, a bit much, it's. . . it's _barbaric_!"

"That's a big word." Iroha winced, cowering a bit under her intense graying stare.

Her hair clips were sagging again, her giant blue bow seeming almost ominous now as it sat droopingly atop her head, the cheery color coming in teeth-chattering contrast to the raging despair on her best friend's face.

"For an entire hour," she whispered gravely, as if it were a death sentence, her grip loosening as her eyes went hazy. Organ music practically blared in the background.

Iroha blinked in surprise, her hands coming up to her shoulders as she swayed. "Cookie, are you okay? Snap out of it. It's not that bad."

Kaiko laughed almost maniacally, her eyes wide and focused on the ceiling. "Not that bad, not that bad." She snapped her head down, sanity crashing back as she clenched her teeth, the jellybeans of her eyes melting into an ashy steel. "It's the worst thing that's ever happened to me!"

"Kaiko," Iroha said calmly, reaching up to fix the ice cream hairpins back to their usual perk, "I know that Meito is a pain, but I think you're overreacting. It's only an hour, and you're only helping. You won't be alone with him."

"My dad'll try," Kaiko despaired.

Iroha went to work on the other side. "Even so, you know Meito will make a fuss sooner or later. You can use that as an excuse to wait outside or write in your notebook."

"Hmmm," Kaiko mulled this over, her eyes flicking to the side. "Well, that's true. Can always count on him to say something awful." Her eyes fell halfway just at the thought of how true that was.

"Right?" Iroha smiled her gentle smile, vainly attempting to make her bow not so droopy. It was no use in the end, though—the bow was too big, and Kaiko's head was too small. It fell no matter what she did. Sighing to herself, she dropped her hands. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but I don't think it will be bad either. You just have to make the best of it. Look on the bright side, remember?"

"That only works when there's a bright side to look at," Kaiko grumbled glumly.

"Don't be like that." She frowned. "Now smile already, you look weird and people are starting to stare."

Looking around herself, Kaiko realized she was right. People were looking at her funny. Looking back at Iroha, she drew out a breath, letting her shoulders fall in rhythm with it, before she grinned her biggest and widest. "Happy?"

Iroha stared at her, suddenly astonished. "C-Cookie. . ."

Kaiko blinked, trying to keep the monster grin up even though her cheeks were starting to hurt a little. "What? If I grin any bigger my face will break."

"Huh? Oh, no, Kaiko, it's not that, it's just. . ." She deftly held a finger up to her teeth, her eyes large and fascinated. "That."

"That?" Kaiko's grin dropped, her eyes suddenly flaring with panic. "I don't have a cavity do I? Or do I just have something stuck in my teeth?" She reached a hand up to touch around at her mouth in concern, when suddenly something popped out into her hand. She froze.

Iroha stared at it as well, her mouth hanging open. "I. . . I think your face already broke."

Kaiko stared at the tiny item in her hand, her tongue running along her gum line to feel where the tooth was gone. The coppery taste of blood came sharply on her tongue but she didn't react. For a second, Iroha thought she was going to lose it again—she'd lose it a little too if a piece of her face suddenly chipped off and fell to the floor. Things that were _attached_ couldn't just fall off like hair-clips. She must have been a lot more stressed out than she thought.

The sound of an ear-piercing scream nearly shattered her eardrums as Kaiko suddenly started squealing and jumping up and down. "I lost my last tooth! I lost my last tooth!"

"Your _last_?" Iroha gawked. "That's really your last one? Kaiko, really, you don't have to freak out this much. The Meito thing—"

"Oh, forget Meito!" She waved him off like bad lunch meat, holding the tooth to her chest as if it were the world's most precious jewel. Her smile was big and genuine now as she spun around on her foot, before she suddenly jumped forward and engulfed Iroha in a big hug. "Kit-Kat, one part of my nightmare is over!" All that gnashing her teeth over Meito' visit must have paid off. There really was a bright side.

"Kaiko. . ." Iroha shifted uncomfortably. "Why do you keep saying that?"

Kaiko pulled back, grinning big and showing off the obnoxious gap that was suddenly in her teeth. "It's perfectly natural, Ha-chan. You don't know?"

Iroha stared at her bug-eyed. "Don't know what?"

Kaiko stared at her a moment in surprise, before she burst into giggles. Holding the tooth up to the light, she explained, positively gleaming and looking very much like her usual self now, "Teeth fall out. And in essence, Meito will to, I guess?"

Iroha blinked, her eyes still large. "Now how could you co—"

Kaiko giggled, shaking her head. "I know it's weird, but try to look at it from a different angle."

Iroha stared at her, before her lips slowly formed her words back, as if trying to sound them out in hopes of understanding dawning on her, "You're hoping from Meito to finally grow up?"

Kaiko beamed, nodding her head.

"But. . . But . . . Ugh, never mind. And why don't teeth just fall out all at once? Just to get it over with, anyway?" Dinner tonight was no doubt going to be spent with a lot of awkward questions, '_What else falls out_?' being probably the most concerning.

Kaiko giggled gleefully at the silly statement, feeling all the more endeared to her gentle friend. "Because then we wouldn't have anything to eat with while the new teeth grew! We'd be stuck with apple sauce and pudding."

"What's wrong with that?" Iroha stared at her blankly, much calmer than before.

Kaiko shook her head, feeling the tooth all the bigger in her hand now as she looked down at it. Her grin grew as she declared, "I've got to tell Daddy!" She started to turn around to do just that, no doubt skipping a foot off the ground the entire way, when she was suddenly smashed up against something mid-turn. "Ow!"

She stumbled back, rubbing her sore face with her free hand. "I'm sorry, that was—"

"Pig."

Her eyes snapped open to see Meito standing there, brown eyes even nastier than usual and a deep frown carving his face to the point she thought it was going to split in half.

She couldn't move

"_What_?" he hissed, practically shaking with. . . something.

The bell rang, but Kaiko didn't move. She just stared at him, a statue stuck to the floor. As all the kids went running to their respective classrooms, Iroha looked around herself in worry. Taking quiet steps over to put a hand on Kaiko's shoulder, she said, "Kaiko, class is starting. Your dad's waiting."

Kaiko blinked slowly. It was a small thing, but it was enough for Iroha to know she was well enough to walk. She grabbed hold of her arm and started pulling her in the direction of the classroom, away from Meito's petrifying stare and bared teeth. Iroha guessed that when his teeth started falling out, wolf's fangs would grow in place. The thought made her purse her lips and she pulled Kaiko all the more determined.

Soon enough, Kaiko managed to blink herself back from the underworld she'd found herself in and gulped, turning around to walk with her friend. When Iroha noticed she was walking with her, she smiled and let go of her arm. Kaiko smiled her thanks.

That is until, Meito called out, "Have fun listening to Daddy Dearest drone on about nonsense, Piggy Pig! I hope that massive nose he likes to stick in everyone's business falls off!"

It was so small. It was hardly any different from any of his other attacks. But it struck a cord. No, it didn't strike one. It snapped one like a guitar string and caused a mind-numbing zing to echo off of the halls. She heard it quite clearly in her ears. It was the loudest thing she'd ever heard.

She didn't even feel herself turn around. "That. . . is. . . _it_!" The sound of her screech reverberated throughout the entire school but it crashed like waves against her ears and caused things long buried to bubble up like acid.

She had him by his shirt, was pushing him to the floor and towering over him like a skyscraper. He stared up at her in such horror. She hardly registered it past the red in her eyes. "You are going to shut up," her voice was nothing more than a seething whisper, the sound of white heat forcing through teeth. "Sweezus, why won't you ever behave? What changed in you? Why are you so horrible? We used to be _friends_!"

"Kaiko. . ." he whispered, shuddering on the floor.

"Is that my name?" she asked acidly, her feet apart and fists clenched so hard her fingers were turning white. "Since when is my name Kaiko? I thought it was pig. Wasn't that right? _Meito. . ._"

His eyelids twitched and he looked like he wanted to scream something back but he couldn't.

"Listen, delinquent," she grabbed him up by his collar and bared her teeth in a growl, a million times more terrifying a look on her than it had ever been on him, "I'm done. If I'm going to tutor you for the next few weeks, you are going to _zip it_. No more name calling, no more torture, and no more pretending you _don't care_ 'cause I know you do. My name is _Kaiko F. Shion_. Get it right! I am not going to get stuck with you for the rest of my life with you acting like this! I don't deserve this kind of pain day in and day out!"

"The rest of your life?" he echoed like he was in a dream.

Kaiko's eyes widened for a split second before she growled, "The next few weeks, the rest of school, you get it! A really long time! But the point is, I'm not putting up with you anymore! _Be a good person already, geek bait_!" And with that, she grabbed him by the back of his collar and proceeded to drag him to class with her, her feet stomping down the hall like she was a storm cloud. Iroha stared in shock as she dragged the dazed and strangely euphoric Meito with her, before she disappeared around the corner.

Kaiko F. Shion was like the sun at their school. She made perfect grades and had the loveliest personality, and was very rarely caught without a smile. There was very little wrong with her, some might say. Some might even claim she was an angel. But no one on this earth is perfect.

Kaiko Shion had the nastiest temper, and that combined with the resolve of a bull and morals even more strictly adhered to than her own father, was Armageddon in the making. Any sort of wrongdoing was enough to set her off. It was perhaps her biggest fault and often ended in walls crumbling and cities setting aflame.

As far as Meito was concerned, he was the world's biggest screw up. He broke twenty rules before breakfast and acted as if it was nothing. Kaiko would never understand the change in his demeanor, considering they'd been friends in kindergarten, but all she knew was that she despised it. She had to resist ripping him to shreds on a daily basis, and it often drained her of her energy. He would never understand just how much he frustrated and hurt her.

Especially since she could remember quite clearly what her bedtime stories as a small child had been of. Of a nasty bully that tormented the boy she adored for attention, until one day he found out and fell in love with her in return and they got married. She remembered her father telling her he was that boy, and she remembered falling asleep with a smile on her face. She remembered her great-grandparents telling her a similar story, and how it was shaping out to be a destiny kind of thing. She'd had no idea she'd learn to dread that at the time.

If there was any chance that she could get around it, she would. She would scour the entire galaxy for a loophole if she had to. Meito wasn't like her mother was. Her mother was funny and playful, he was just mean and stupid. He never tried, he was completely unmotivated in everything he did, and he knew how to hot wire a car. No good could come from that. It simply wasn't the same concept. Besides, wasn't she the one that was supposed to fall and pick on him? Not the other way around?

In any case, she was done with it. No more getting picked on, and no more acting the bully. He would be a good person from now on, she would make sure of that. He didn't have to be perfect, she liked him just the way he—. . . He didn't have to be perfect. But he did at least have to stop with the remarks.

Of course, who knew how long her ill-timed fury would last?

He'd be back to himself as soon as the month was up.


	6. Lit Miss

**_A/N:_  
**

Another random chapter to explain just a bit on what their mother does. And to show how unruly Nii-chan and Pepper Ann get.

* * *

Nigaito stared intently at the screen, saddled closely by his father as he read over the words. They read at the same pace, leisurely yet attentive to every detail, until an error was found. Nigaito responded instantly, saying the word before his dad could, "Typo."

Ōkuno chuckled, fixing the word as he said with quiet humor, "Yeah, I doubt she wanted to say 'She ate fat.'"

Nigaito murmured a reply but it was unintelligible, his eyes already focused on the next line. Ōkuno easily fell back into sync with him.

The room was quiet save for the occasional mutter of an error, and the faint click of a keyboard as said errors were corrected. They were lost in the work and, admittedly, the story, as they proofread each line with careful consideration.

If they'd not been dead to the world, they might have heard the vague sound of sneakers against wooden floorboards, warning them of danger. They may have heard the subtle creak, or the scuffle against a rug. They may have even heard the slosh of water. But as it were, they didn't become aware of anything until the loud voice came directly behind them, "Wha'cha doing?"

Ōkuno jolted into reality, startled, but Nigaito all but lost it. He jumped on instinct and clung to his father's neck, all but choking him as he took in heaving, panicked breaths. For someone so calm ordinarily, he was remarkably jumpy.

Ōkuno choked out, patting Nigiato's still trembling arm, "Akaito, don't frighten your brother."

Akaito chuckled, leaning his arms against the back of the chair as he looked over to see what was on the screen, one hand tight around a cup of what could only be assumed as water. "Sorry for being curious. But it's not _all_ my fault, Nigaito would be terrified of butterflies if they snuck up on him unannounced. Even if I wasn't trying, he'd have been clinging to the ceiling fan."

Ōkuno felt Nigaito's grip recede then, and craned his head back just enough to raise his eyebrow at his second eldest. "So you admit you did that on purpose."

Akaito's only response was to smirk. Ōkuno sighed.

Nigaito grumbled, laying with his head in his arms on the desk, pointedly keeping his eyes on the mouse, "I'm not afraid of butterflies."

Akaito heard him, though, and smirked all the more wolfishly.

"To answer your question," Ōkuno began swiftly, putting an end to the possibility of any fights breaking out, "we were just proofreading your mother's new book."

"Mom's book?" Akaito asked, an eyebrow already raised. "But Mom writes romance novels. . ." He bit his lip, eyes sparkling. "And you guys call yourselves men. . ."

"Don't start. . ." Nigaito warned, giving him a scathing look.

Akaito put his free hand to his mouth to try to hold back his laughter, but his eyes said all that needed to be said. Nigaito glared at him heatedly, enough so that Ōkuno feared the room would catch fire.

"Nigaito's being paid," Ōkuno explained.

"Plus it helps," Nigaito went on to add, his glare softening a bit, but barely, "I'm going to be a writer one day, and Mom's been on the bestseller list a _few_ times. It's good to study."

"Ambitious," Akaito teased, hooking his foot over his other leg as he took a sip from his drink. "I look forward to the eye-twitching that will no doubt ensue for the next forty-eight hours. Oh, and," he held up his cup to Nigaito, a smirk dancing at the corners of his lips, "all that lovely romantic fiction you'll be writing years from now."

"How _dare_—" Nigiato began, looking ready to start screaming as he gripped the arm of Ōkuno's chair with a whitening hand.

Ōkuno grabbed Nigaito into a quick hug, catching him off guard as he went stiff as a board. He let his grip go a little looser, giving him the option of pulling out of it if he wished, and patted him gently on the back. "Nigaito, relax, no killing your brother. And Akaito," Ōkuno sighed, snapping his eyes to Akaito's laughing ones with a stern look, "if you don't stop. . ." Nigaito pushed away from him then, interrupting him, his tongue stuck out.

"Yeah, yeah," Akaito waved him off, smirking purposely at Nigaito, "he'll call in the fighter pilots, King Kong will go on a rampage, the Earth will collide with the sun in a fiery explosion and all humanity will be doomed. I know the drill. Nigaito doesn't do romance." He smirked then, all sharp teeth and mischief. "He just reads up on it all the time and obsesses over Casablanca."

Nigaito's face went blank.

Ōkuno sent him a disapproving look. "Akai—"

"Up, up," Akaito interrupted, holding up his cup as he took a step back, "I speak only the truth. You scold me all the time for lying, you can't scold me for honesty too. It's only fair. All I did was agree Nigaito won't be writing any girly chick flicks in his future. But if not that, then I know just what he can put in one of his movies." He grinned then, crookedly, and grabbed hold of the back of his dad's chair. With a bit of strain, he managed to pull it back away from the table with the laptop sitting upon it, as well as away from Nigaito, and then, simply, sat his cup of water on top of his dad's head. He gestured grandly to it. "Ta-da!"

Nigaito stared at him, his eyes very slowly switching between his beaming face and the cup sitting effortlessly on their father's head. Ōkuno's face was tight, his lips pursed ever so slightly, as he carefully moved his hands up to retrieve the cup from his head. "Akaito. . ." Ōkuno said very slowly, quietly, "what are you talking about?"

"Your head." Akaito grinned all the more bright. "It's gigantic. And flat. It makes an excellent table. How's that for comedy? Wouldn't that make a great comedy skit? You could, like. . ." he shuffled his hands, as if searching for words in the air, "use it for the table on Thanksgiving or something. A table cloth, some flowers, it'd be hilarious."

Ōkuno and Nigaito shared a look, unmoving.

"Can I kill him now?" Nigaito asked calmly after a moment, tone a bit lower than usual.

Ōkuno blinked at him, eyes still half-lidded and blank, before he shrugged very slightly and sat the cup of water on the table. "Be my guest."

"Hey now, you guys," he heard Akaito say with that smooth, slippery tone of his, "I'm a _lover_, not a—Oof!" Ōkuno heard a loud clatter behind him, followed by a cackle, but he was already busy reading over the next line of the novel.

_She ate fast, shoving the eggs down her gullet in six seconds flat before flying out the front door. Being the first Japanese-American president of the United States wasn't an easy job, after all, and she had much more pressing matters at hand than breakfast. _

_There was always something calling for her attention, something that had to be done quickly in order to keep the delicate balance of her country even and secure, or her kids safe and happy, for that matter, but this was even more important than that. More important than famine, or the education of their youth, or even the jobless and homeless people fraught across the country._

_Her husband was missing, and without him, the household and her entire world would surely be thrown into chaos._

_Or at least, more so than it usually was. . ._


	7. But Ted, it's Fail Friday!

_**A/N:**_

True story.

* * *

Kikaito and Akaito sat beside each other on the sofa, waiting for the baseball game to come back on as commercials flashed across the screen in a blur. In a blur, that is, because they were not actually paying any attention.

"So I told her that I wouldn't go out with her, and she got all angry at me and asked — listen to this — she asked me if it was because she was blonde. And I asked her what she meant, and she said, quoted, 'Dumb blonde, hello?' And everyone just went silent." Kikaito blinked at him, twisting his face as Akaito laughed. "She does realize I'm blond, right? Like, does she think that only applies to girls or something? Isn't that a little. . . sexist? Can girls be sexist?"

"Girls can totally be sexist," Akaito assured, still laughing as he relaxed back on the couch, feet propped up. "But you can't accuse someone you don't even know of thinking you are something that you are. That's got the be the biggest fail to date." He laughed again as Kikaito gave a quiet chuckle, before Akaito started coughing suddenly and Kikaito went silent with alarm. He beat his palm against his chest a couple times as the coughs wracked his body, before they tapered off with a wheeze. Sighing in relief, Akaito ran a hand through his hair and gave a hoarse chuckle. Kikaito looked at him in concern.

"You okay over there," he asked, a hint of amusement underlining his words.

Akaito nodded distractedly, waving him off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just getting a little cold, I think." Kikaito hummed.

A feminine, sultry voice came from the TV suddenly and both boys snapped at attention. She spoke pleasantly, images of coughing and sneezing people as they walked through crowds of grayed out pedestrians flashing across the screen, "Colds suck."

Akaito snorted at that and coughed again. "Yeah, no duh, girl friend."

"I wonder how long it took her to figure that one out," Kikaito said dryly, and they both snickered. He stopped then suddenly, and looked over to Akaito with a frown. "That wasn't sexist was it?"

"No, now shush, this actually looks interesting." Kikaito's eyebrows flew up in surprise at that, watching in momentary shock as Akaito leaned forward with an intent look.

The woman's voice went on, as clips of random attractive people played, all shown spraying something in their mouths. At first Kikaito thought it was some sort of breath spray commercial, which was interesting he guessed 'cause he'd never seen one before, but the woman corrected him when she said, "With new Cold-EEZE spray, you can shorten colds with just two sprits of a bottle. Anywhere you go, just two sprays will shield germs from entering your system, blocking out the virus the second it enters your mouth. Now that's fast relief." A woman sitting on a plane with Cold-EEZE held up in her hand grinned for the camera. "For cold protection that will shorten your cold, try Cold-EEZE today."

Kikaito mentally ah-ed as the commercial explained itself, understanding now as Akaito grabbed a pen from his pocket and started looking around hastily for a piece of paper. Finding none, he scribbled it down on his hand, blowing on it to make the ink dry faster. The commercial hadn't ended however, as the CEO of the Cold-EEZE company, apparently, came on directly after the woman.

With a receding hairline that could put Chris Meloni's to shame, the short, shiny-headed man spoke in the plainest of voices, "Hello, I'm Ted Karkus—"

Both teenagers stopped dead. Unspeaking, Akaito grabbed the remote up and froze the television. Rewinding it, he played it back.

"Hello, I'm Ted Karkus—"

_Rewind._

"I'm Ted Karkus—"

_Rewind._

"Ted Karkus—"

_Rewind._

"Hello, I'm Ted Karkus, CEO of Cold-EEZE—"

_Pause._

The two teenagers sat in silence for a long time.

Finally, Akaito managed to speak, "What the hell did he just say?"

Kikaito blinked. "I think he said his name is Carcass."

"Ted Carcass?"

"Yes. But I think it was with a K?"

Akaito gaped at the television, his eyes going glassy and cross-eyed for a second before the remote dropped from his hand to the couch and he fell back into the cushions with a high-pitched, "Ha!"

Kikaito put a hand to his face, closing his eyes. "To a cold commercial. The CEO of a company that works in medicine is named Carcass."

"And shares Teddy's name~!" Akaito wheezed. "Well, it is official," he decided, before sitting up straight and waving his hand in the air, procuring an invisible scepter. With a clear of his throat and one last wave of his hand for effect, he decreed, "I hereby decree today Fail Friday. And sir Carcass, I dub thee the Court Jester of all Faildom." Sniffing a little, he muttered under his breath, "Until further notice."

Kikaito mentally rolled his eyes, but before he could respond to the rather Nigaito-like display, the baseball game came back on, and all thoughts of dumb blondes, epic failure, and carcasses were put to rest.

No pun intended.


	8. Dear Diary

_**A/N:**_

Warning: Incredibly un-funny junk ahead, created out of pure boredom and because I really miss posting stuff here. I am weak, I admit it. I'm supposed to be on hiatus because life is hectic and I can't keep up anymore. OTL

* * *

Dear Diary:

I'm not gay. I swear.

Mom decided it'd be a cute idea to get me a diary. Yes, Diary, do you feel the pain in that sentence? Those were her exact words: _"A cute idea."_ She then proceeded to explain that she used to write down a lot of her troubled thoughts in her diary when she was my age. And feelings. And all such other girly things.

I know that Dad seems to think I'm a lot like my mom, but this is going too far.

I'm not a chick. At the very least, she could have gotten me something with 'Journal' printed fatly on the spine. Not 'Diary.' Please no. Imagine if anyone saw me with this thing: "Ronnie, you've gotta believe me, my mom bought it for me! Honest! . . .Yes, I'm serious, stop questioning my sexuality, damn it!"

I guess this is their way of trying to help me with whatever troubled teenage boy problems I might be having that I won't talk to them about. Nigaito has his therapy sessions once a week, Taito has his violent sports, Kaiko's life is sunshine and unicorn poop, whatever else my other brothers do and now I have a diary. Splendid. All offspring accounted for. Good work, Mum and Dad, you've truly outdone yourselves.

Well, great. What am I supposed to talk about?

I guess I could always take Mom's advice and talk about my feelings. That could work. Not girly at all. Nope.

Well, I was talking with SeeU this morning over our double frappe mochas and OHMAHGOSH you won't believe it, Diary, she said IA totes hooked up with Yum-Yum. She heard it from Lily who heard it from Cul who heard it from Miku who heard it from the creepy janitor with that weird mustache thing on his lip that has all those Cheetos crumbs stuck in it who supposedly heard it from his alleged girlfriend (whose gender remains in question), Neru – Kiru Akibo.

Or was it Akibitch? Bumhead? Bitchwithnomophobia?

Oh yes, Akita. Of course. Pfffft. She would be the one to spread news like that. Everybody knows Yum-Yum's mine! That IA bitch better back the fluff up if she knows what's good for her! With her eighty-piece makeup kit and cheap-ass faux handbag! So a knock-off! Yum-Yum deserves a girl with more expensive taste so he can be properly run into bankruptcy!

No, but seriously, my love life's ready for the sad violin treatment. Haku keeps rejecting my date invitations. She's too busy. It's been bumming me out. "I'm busy." Hmph. What's that supposed to mean anyway? Some kind of chick code for "Screw you"? She can't hide from me forever! I'll throw her over my shoulder and lock her away in my cave, growl at any trespassers and offer her bones for dinner. See how busy she is then.

Okay, wow, did I just write something actually relevant? By the gods, the apocalypse must truly be near. I'd better stock back up on habaneros, tomato juice and marshmallows. And bones, maybe. Just in case.

Oh well. Haku's rejection has given me a pretty free social agenda, so it's not like I have anything better to do right now anyway. Nigaito's all but barricaded the living room for himself and Kaiko's asleep and, oh yes, did I mention it's Friday? So no school tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Maybe I should just go nag Taito incessantly until he does something entertaining. We could watch a movie in his room. Ehhh. . . Nah, he'd just end up wanting to talk about some geek thing, or, worse, jock thing, and that gets old real fast. He's always got to point out pointless things in films and tell me useless facts too. "This actor starred in that film. That prop was used for a thing. Lemon juice is a great stain remover." Blah blah blah, who the frick cares?

Wow I'm bored. Okay. New tactic. How about a game of tic-tac-toe?

X_|O|_X

O_|O|_X

X_|X|_O

Best two out of three, Me? What do you say? No? Oh, it's okay. You're too crafty for me anyways. And handsome too. How do you manage to stay so wonderfully pale? Oh, what's that? Sunscreen? Oh, of course, it's so obvious! How could I not have thought of that? Oh, wait, I did, because I'm you. Well, well, well, I am a lucky devil. Okay, moving on.

This morning Sai greeted me by flicking a handkerchief my direction before coasting around the corner. An embroidered one, too, with blue lace trim. No, your eyes aren't deceiving you. Naturally I responded by giggling and trying to hide my girlish blush. I wonder if Sai-chan realizes how easy it would be to assume he's gay. Sayu would have a field day with that, no doubt. I should tell her about it. Get my good deed for the day over with.

Then again I am the one laying here writing in a little blue diary with my mom's purple ink pen. Maybe I don't have much room to speak. Maybe.

Nah, I'll laugh anyway. HAHAHAHA. . . ha.

Hakupo did that horrible thing today where he thinks. It was terrible. He ended up asking me if I had any middle names, since all my sibs have them. I replied, "Noooo, as the first born, my parents hadn't realized just how creative they could be yet, so I'm just Akaito." He believed me. HA. I feel like I should feel guilty but I can't muster the energy. It doesn't matter anyway, nobody's ever gonna be finding out about that.

On another note, hot pink hair dye's expensive. I don't know how emos maintain all that glossy hair and thick make up, let alone where they find jeans tight enough to make it look like they don't even have asses. Seems like a lot of trouble to go to just to announce to the world you 'don't care.' While I was there, though, I checked to see if they had any purple hair dye as well. They did. I'll just leave this here. . .

[Taped Note] Note to Self: Save up enough money to purchase pink and purple hair dye. Then use said hair dye on Nigaito while he's sleeping.

Hmm, then again, if I dyed it brown I could say, "What? I thought you liked brown!" Hmmm. . . I'll file that away as Plan B. Or maybe just Plan Tuesday. Plan Wednesday can be purple. Or maybe just an ever-so-slightly lighter shade of green, just to screw with him. Better yet, I could buy all shades of dark green and use them on him gradually, leading up to the pink and blues, so he just thinks his hair naturally changed color. He's gullible enough, he'd believe it. It's the kind you can wash out, too, so even if he does figure it out, I can just let him think it's permanent for a while. It's fun when he freaks out. He deserves it too, with how he's been snooping about lately. He's such a skuzzy little thing. Hm, if I keep getting ideas like this, I'm gonna have to become a millionaire. I suppose the life of a prankster is no less financially challenging than an emo's. Touche, emos. Touche.

Mom bought donuts again today, with her usual unintentionally sadistic, mom tastes. So that meant I got an eyeful of Dad stuffing a bright pink donut with rainbow sprinkles in his mouth for the third time in a row. Never gets old. Never.

Hakupo's new tissue box is a green monster with multiple eyes and sharp teeth. It scares me.

Hmmm. . . what other pointless things can I write about?

Raspberry and black licorice nut pudding was on sale for the fourth week in a row at the store. Still none sold, and the seventy-something cashier lady, Ms. Sukone, tried flirting with me to try to coax me into buying a few.

And that, Diary, is where I draw the freaking line. Sweezus. . .

Goodnight, and unpleasant dreams.

Guh. . . Keep a diary, they said. It'll be good for you, they said. . .


	9. Tutoring Meito

_**A/N:**_

I'm not a fan of KaitoxMeiko, and yet I just absolutely ADORE KaikoxMeito.

* * *

"So you see, if you just write down the nines on paper," Kaiko explained gently, leaning closer so she could write on his scratch paper, "the left side goes up, and the right side goes down. So it's nine, eighteen, twenty-seven, thirty-six, forty-five—do you see?" She looked up at him.

Meito was staring at the paper, his face utterly blank. He blinked dully, as if he hadn't even heard her speak.

Kaiko huffed, letting the pencil fall with a clatter onto the table as she leaned back into her chair. Meito barely reacted, but did startle enough out of his trance to glance at her strangely, still silent and irritatingly blank-faced. Of all the annoying faces he made, the one where he looked like he didn't even harbor a soul was the most painful.

She took a breath, summoning the patience she boasted in everyone's presence but his. "Look, if you're not going to even listen, there's no point."

"You act as if," he began, mirroring her posture as he leaned back in his chair, mocking her, "there was a point to begin with."

She sighed. "There is a point. The point is getting you to pass your first year. You act like you don't even care."

Meito didn't respond. Just stared at her soullessly.

Desperately, she reached over and picked up the paper, bending it to display the numbers in his direction, as if that would make him look. "It's really not that hard. If you would just—"

"Yeah, maybe it's not hard for _you_, Ms. Perfect," he muttered, eyes on the floor with something bitter and annoying there.

Kaiko blinked at that, stunned, before an exasperated look passed over her face and she let her head fall down to rest on the table.

She wished her dad would get back already. He'd been gone for all of ten minutes, out to "prepare a few things for the test tomorrow," but she knew better. He just wanted to leave them alone for a while.

She wished he'd give it a break.

It was times like these she really missed kindergarten, and nap time. She could really use a nap right now. Being a "big girl" really stunk sometimes. And Meito, he'd been a big boy for a year more than her, and yet he hadn't made any move towards growing up. If anything, she felt older than him. It was rather pathetic.

She glanced down at the numbers on the page by her nose, wondering at exactly how many seconds had passed. Meito didn't seem to mind the silence, but she was getting bored. She was used to loud noises and constant activity. Being left alone to her own thoughts was unnerving. Especially alone with Meito, with nothing but a math book and a hundred problems between them, her thoughts weren't a happy place to be.

Steeling herself, she lifted her head and looked at him. He averted his gaze instantly, but she'd seen. She tried to mask her wariness the best she could, despite the implications of that. She cleared her throat, clasping her hands daintily on the table.

"You know. . . my dad taught this stuff to us not too long ago," Kaiko told him carefully, her eyes searching out his. "There has to be some part of you that remembers. That paid attention, even a little?"

"Nah," he said blandly, eyes focused out the window, and on the flying leaves that signaled rain.

She couldn't help herself. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Too busy bugging me, right?"

That got him to look at her. Brown eyes that were once soft and happy were now pits of unrelenting black, harsh and unforgiving even towards those who had done nothing to him. She glared at him for the look. She wasn't the one in the wrong here.

He smiled then. Not a nice smile. An obstinate, taunting one, and she was reminded of what a bully he was. All the times he'd go gliding through the halls on his skateboard and would stick his tongue out at the teachers when they told him to stop, when _she_ told him to stop. All the times she'd caught him demanding lunch money from her friends, and pinning them against the back of dumpsters. He wasn't a nice boy. Not anymore. "What's the matter, Piggy? Feeling peeved?"

Her muscles tightened. She tried not to let her irritation show. Instead she attempted a subject change, holding the paper up again, "Maybe we should start a little smaller." Her eyes cut. "What's two times three?"

"Twenty-eight."

She slammed the paper down on the table, rattling the writing utensils on the table as she stood up from her chair and glowered at him. "You're not even trying!"

He looked startled. _Good_. He deserved to be the one confused for once. He swallowed, his nerve returning to him too fast for her liking. He pursed his lips at her. "It's not like there's a point! I'm an idiot, remember? You're just a little girl! What do you know about teaching a mentally challenged kid math?"

"You're not an idiot, you just—" she tried, her eyes all but begging him to let her try.

"No!" he yelled, grabbing fistfuls of his scraggly brown hair and clenching his eyes shut like just looking at her caused him physical pain. "I don't know how to do it! It doesn't matter! Math is pointless! Just leave me alone!"

The sound of a chair crashing against the floor hit his ears a split-second before he felt himself being jerked forward. His eyes shot open to meet two big blue ones, filled with frustrated tears. He sucked in a breath.

"Shush," she growled, her hold tightening on him. "Just please, stop, think, and tell me simply: what's two times three?"

He twitched, trying to force her hands off of him, but the effort was pathetic. She just gripped his collar tighter, careful not to actually hurt him, and held his eyes stubbornly. He wasn't getting out of this. If he wouldn't pay attention on his own, she would give him no choice but to pay attention, with a nice, heavy dose of his own jerky medicine. And maybe, if she was lucky, the gruffness would make him forget about her. He preyed on her sweet, little girl innocence—she was being anything but sweet right now, and maybe she was innocent, but not to him and his ways.

But all he would do was stare at her, and fumble with his hands at his sides. She was certain she wasn't choking him. She could see he was breathing fine, if not a bit heavy from the shock. A minute later, he still wouldn't say anything. She held his look all the same, unfazed and ready to wait for all the time it took. She could be patient.

The sound of the door opening shocked them, and Kaiko quickly sprung up and away from him, certain her dad would never let her hear the end of it if he saw. He'd misinterpret, and twist, and grin secretively. She had enough problems with her mom's "subtle" hints.

"Okay, so, Meito," her dad began in his usual warm, kindly voice, a smile lighting up his middle-aged features as he crossed the room to them, "how have you been doing?"

Meito just shrugged with that soulless look falling effortlessly back into place, and Kaiko had to hold back a small snarl. Even without trying, he enraged her. Or maybe that was just leftover anger from their little episode a few seconds ago. She didn't care to know which. She needed an out, and now.

"Um, Daddy," she said softly, looking up at him with the biggest eyes she could muster, "I'm a little hungry. Could I go down to the cafeteria and see if they're still selling snacks?"

As expected, her father melted, a hand already reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. "Sure, Cookie. Bring me back some gum drops if you can."

With her dad's money tight in her hand, she began towards the door.

"Okay, Meito, let's start with something simple. There's no pressure, just relax and do your best, all right?" A pause. "What's two times four?"

There was another pause as she opened the door, already halfway out.

"Six."

She instantly slammed the door shut behind her and went stomping down the hall.

He so did that on _purpose_!


	10. Justifiably Cruel

_**A/N:**_

Some more Kaiko and Meito. Somewhat. XD

* * *

There are a lot of things Meito isn't certain of.

He's not certain what's for lunch today, he's not certain what the weather will be, he's not certain that he won't step on gum today — as he seems talented in doing —, and he's not certain that his aunt will be home when he rides back on his skateboard.

But there is one thing he's always been certain of, and that's that it's really, really fun to screw with Kaiko Shion.

Most people see her and immediately coo and caw and gawk. They see the sweet smiles and big blue eyes and shiny Mary-Janes and think her the perfect little girl.

But Meito knows better.

He's _seen_ things.

He's seen her blow her top and scream and rage like a regular brat, stomping her feet and punching walls. He's seen what happens once she's gotten to the end of her rope, and it's the complete opposite of perfect and sweet.

He knows the truth.

She's nothing but a wound-up doll waiting for someone to light her fuse. And he _loves_ it. Gets a _thrill _out of having her seethe and spit in his face. **_He wants her to do it._**

Maybe that makes him a jerk, but he's always known he was a lowlife, and unlike her, he doesn't deny it. He's dumb, and he's cruel, and he doesn't care. It's who he is, and no one, not Mr. Shion, not Kaiko, and not Iro-whatever, can change that.

But he can change her.

He can make her show her true colors.

No more Sunshine-Marie acts for her when he's around. He considers it his quest in life to prove to people she's not perfect, though she always seems to blow her top just in time for everyone to be out of earshot. But he'll win one of these days, she can't deny her true nature for long, not with him doing everything in his power to destroy every semblance of composure on her pale, pretty little face. And the best part is that all he has to do is be himself, break every rule in the book and be the no-good little misfit he is—and far be it from him to deny _his_ true nature.

Kaiko Shion's purpose to him is to be tortured and defied. And he does that job well. Really well. He takes pride in that.

So it's understandable that when the foreign exchange student, Moke Shi-Shi-poo or whatever, decides it's fun to pull on her hairclips, and Kaiko giggles and bats his hand away like it's all some kind of adorable joke, he feels pushing him into the shallow, muddy end of the lake at the park is fully justified. That was the most pathetic attempt at annoying Kaiko he'd ever seen.

Now, having the new Chinese boy run off crying with mud caked in his mouth and stuffed up his nose, that was a good way to get her really irritated. Angry, even, as her heated glare was proving to him, and he sniffed at her, smirking at the ground. What could he say? He was good at what he did.

The fact Kaiko actually sincerely _liked_ the kid was just a bonus.


	11. Home Movies

_**A/N:**_

I'm thinking of actually making this to something a little serious and creating story arcs for only a few of the Shions. Maybe just four. Maybe. But Akaito is definitely going to have one, oh and Nigaito, too! And of course Kaiko will have one because she's the only girl in the family that I've put in, but I need help in who else to do the fourth arc for. . . Ah well. I think I'll just post a poll on my Page some time this week.

Anyways, this is just something ridiculously short and. . . Actually, I don't know why. I just felt like posting something as pointless as this moment.

* * *

"Hey. . . Hey, Akaito."

"Wha? . . .Oh, Ni, get that out of here. I'm not in the mood."

"Why do you think I'm here? Smile!"

"I don't want to. . ."

"Yes you do!"

"Please, Nigaito, buddy, it's too early for this. Go bug Kaito."

"I already tried. He's in the bathroom."

"All the more reason to catch him on video. Maybe then we can finally settle whether he's really a boy or not."

". . .What?"

"Never mind. Go get Mom on camera then—Oh, speak of the devil!"

"Mom, smile!"

"What. . . What's th—Oh, macarons, Nigaito, get that out of here! I haven't brushed my hair or had coffee or anything! Do you want to scar us all for life?"

"Maybe."

". . .Darling, you know I love you, but I have no control of my mouth at six in the morning so you're going to have to back off before I say something we all regret."

"I just wanted to add to the home videos. . ."

"Okay. . . Okay, how about, how about you go get some footage of Kaiko while she's still asleep? That'd be cute."

"_No_."

"Dad then?"

"Is he awake?"

"Good morning, my lovely family!"

"Does that answer your question, Ni?"

"Ah, shit. Another morning person. Someone, kill it."

"Love you too, dear."

"Eh."

"Oh, Nigaito, you've got the camera! Great! First day of third grade! You excited?"

"No."

_Click._


End file.
